


The End of a Beginning

by Gallop_Free



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo, The Language of Thorns - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, F/M, Gore, Political Alliances, Politics, Rebirth, Reincarnation, Revenge, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallop_Free/pseuds/Gallop_Free
Summary: Alina's story is one of pain as she sits in the Cold Palace contemplating where she had gone wrong. First an orphan, then a princess, and finally an abandoned Queen. The Nazyalenskys wanted a pawn to marry Vasily, not their treasure - Zoya - passing her off as a bastard daughter, much more docile and subsiverant.The higher one rises, the more one has to fall. Finally, she receives a glass of hemlock wine, with the order from none other but her husband. It had taken eight years for him to remember that she should've been dealt with.Except the hemlock doesn't exactly kill her. Alina finds herself young again, and she knows now what she must do.Inspired by a story called 锦绣未央. It's filled with cliches and political ploys and I thought I'd take a shot at making it less cliched because I find politics and the part of figuring out all extremely interesting. Please tell me what you think in the comments and leave a kudos if you liked it!
Relationships: David Kostyk & Genya Safin, David Kostyk/Genya Safin, Nikolai Lantsov/Alina Starkov, Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky, Sergei Beznikov/Marie, Tamar Kir-Bataar/Nadia Zhabin, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov, Vasily Lantsov/Alina Starkov
Comments: 68
Kudos: 63





	1. Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [锦绣未央](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/579139) by 秦简. 



The walls of the dungeon were too thin and her blanket was too bare. The rain and winds and cold seeped through despite the lack of opening. Alina dragged behind her a pair of broken legs, beaten far beyond healing.

How long had it been? She was sure that she was going crazy when she heard the footsteps and saw the hats of the imperial ministers. And yet, something told her that wasn’t imagination when they pressed her into the floor in an attempt to make her kneel.

Nothing really entered her ears. There was not much she could expect.

“…as she has not repented…”

“…a cup of hemlock wine.” The shock drew her up.

“Vasily!” She shrieked, then cackled. “I have been a fool to believe you! Are you happy now?”

The ministers looked on, perhaps with pity, perhaps with sadness.

One of them handed her the cup.

“Vasily.” Alina closed her eyes. “If I live again, I will return to you what was done to me.”

_I will never do this again. I will never go down this path again._

The wine burned. She felt the pain and saw the world go white.

_This is it._

_Vanya, will I see you again? I was a bad mother._

_I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry._

_I wish I never brought you to this world._

“I am alive?” Alina breathed. “My legs!” She looked down.

Where was she? Who was this miraculous healer that had saved her? Certainly no one from the court.

The pain was real. It was never a dream. The hate was real too.

And yet, she was in a patchy bed. The surroundings seemed to be oddly familiar.

“You are up.” Keys jingled and a woman in a black dress walked in slowly.

The features…Ana Kuya? Shouldn’t she have been older? And yet, this woman had not aged. It had been twenty years since Alina had last glimpsed her face, but there were no excess wrinkles and the keys still hung at her waist, slender as Alina remembered it.

“What year is it?” She demanded.

Ana Kuya was taken aback by her sudden outburst. “Why, Starkova, it is the thirtieth year of Tsar Alexander Lantsov the third.”

A realization dawned on her.

This, was her past?

She would be chosen by the Nazyalenskys to replace Zoya to marry Vasily who had no chance as king despite being the eldest.

They said that they needed a girl who looked the part with dark hair and pale skin to pass on as a daughter. It was unthinkable that Zoya, whom they had already groomed for the role of queen, would marry a man with no chance at the throne. But one did not refuse a prince when he sought a marriage with their family.

Soon she would be shoved in the role of Nazyalensky’s bastard daughter, raised far away as to not cause a scandal. Someone who would make a less ambitious, difficult wife, or so Vasily was told.

Everyone guessed that Nikolai would thwart Vasily. They were wrong when Alina stepped into the picture.

Years later, she had heard snippets of rumors that she was the astrologer’s firebird, the woman who would make any husband Tsar. Now? She laughed, because that clearly didn’t make her Tsarina.

“Starkova?” Ana Kuya handed her a bowl of porridge. “You drifted off again. Eat your porridge and rest. I will put someone else in the kitchen to help with the cooking.”

Now she remembered. She had slipped and hit her head that day in the kitchen. Ana Kuya had let her rest.

She needed it too. Soon, she’d be fighting a long battle. It would be her against the Nazyalensky matriarch, Zoya, and the other sisters.

Zoya was essentially a poisonous butterfly. You couldn’t really pinpoint the instant where you had been duped. It was just that you knew and you stayed away.

And excellent skills in manipulation. The most favored daughter, after all. Zoya took after Baroness Nazyalenskaya in her charm, wit and cruelties, as well as a love for money and beauty.

The other two…Marie and Nadya. Marie was much more outspoken, and Nadya shy. Either way, the two flattered and buttered Zoya up for favors and extra pocket money. Some of those favors were of course

They had all grown up together, after all. Everyone knew that her status was a lie, and a badly told one. Vasily’s incompetence had lost him favor with the King and he knew that the Nazyalenskys were important allies for his father. It would serve him no good to reveal the deception and there would be no consequence except a verbal lashing – for him.

Politics.

The anger that he must’ve felt for the slight…it was all paid for by her.

Either way, they would come, and she would never let the same fate happen to her twice.

_The saints gave me a new life. I won’t disappoint them._

The pain of losing her son, the sound of her legs cracking, the taste of the hemlock…it would take more than revenge to forget.

Ana Kuya didn’t think that it was Starkova who looked at the wall with intense hatred.

_This is someone else,_ she thought.

“Porridge.” She handed Alina a bowl of hot buckwheat porridge, taking note of Alina’s newfound grace.

_That girl had never eaten quietly before. If not Starkova, who?_

Later that day, she heard the sound of hooves on cobbles.

The carriage had the Nazyalensky insigna.

She was put in a kefta that was neither fitted nor new, but still overly glamorous. Against grey skin and mousy hair, Alina looked in the window and saw a clown.

The first time she had come, Alina had not known manners. No one bothered to tell her that she had to curtsy and learn to eat with her fingers positioned on certain parts of her fork or the size of bite that she should’ve adhered to.

Alina had been a joke in Os Alta once. The bastard daughter with no class…that had lost her enough respect. It was no wonder that Vasily despised her with all the deception and lack of tact that her reputation hinted at.

No one with political ambitions needed a marriage to pull them down.

_Who is the fool this time?_

She knew that the servants stared and whispered when she moved.

No one expected an orphan to know manners or grace. Alina had an entire lifetime in the Grand Palace and Vasily’s Little Palace. If she had no clue on how to walk when she married, there were enough examples to follow soon after. Vasily’s sisters, the Tsarina, the ladies at court, surprisingly less hostile.

After all, they had nothing to lose when being kind.

Baron Nazyalensky looked happy. His wife was much less pleased.

To the public, it would be a sign that she accepted his infidelities.

_And oh, how she hated it!_

Alina mocked the baroness in her head. But the torture and merciless use was real. No one expected an orphan to rise up to Tsarina. Alina considered herself a quick learner and was proud of the steps that she took to ensure Vasily’s dream would come true – his dream of coronation as the Tsar of Ravka.

But in all of that, she had forgotten that she was a person too.

Some memories were better left forgotten.

The same things had happened in her past life. The Baroness cooed and pinched her cheeks and commented about how sweet she looked, and in an act of generosity gave her ten servants.

Of course, those were her spies to ensure that Alina complied with everything that she did, and a way to distance her from Marie and Nadya. The Baroness did not want Alina to have allies or enough power to question her later decision of pushing Alina into marrying Vasily.

Of course, the others all pushed her.

“He’s good looking.”

“He is going to be king!” The only reason she was married to a prince was because they knew he would not be king.

“You’ll want for nothing,” the Baroness caressed her hair and smiled.

They had all lied. She felt her hands clenching because only when it was too late she had realized some other things. They never wanted her to be queen. She wasn’t meant to be.

Zoya was happy to talk Vasily into imprisoning her. Perhaps under the Baroness’ instruction, but she went through with it.

Marie and Nadya couldn’t care less. Zoya could most likely guarantee them more in terms of benefits and going against their mother was probably not a wise decision, no matter what they really felt about Alina’s fate.

In the end, it was everyone for themselves. Unforunately, she was the sacrifice and she only realized it too late. 

_Thank the saints for this chance._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we gooooo
> 
> I'm going to try and move this fast, but if there's anything that's confusing (since I might omit things that I thought were obvious since I read the original 锦绣未央 and am sorta following the general flow of things) please comment!


	2. Character Map and Backstories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before I go on I feel the need to make a character bio list because a lot of this is drastically different from both the original 锦绣未央 plot and the original Grisha plot. Trying to keep everyone’s personality similar (Aleksandr is still one manipulative ass) and some sort of semblance. 
> 
> I’m keeping Mal out of this because I hate that guy. To be fair Ruin and Rising Mal was better but Siege and Storm was super disappointing…and I don’t see anywhere where he would fit. Pretty sure Baron Nazyalensky would’ve banned that guy from visiting if he found out that he was trying to choose between two of his supposed daughters…of course the Nazyalenskys all know that Alina isn’t one…
> 
> This is mostly Alina’s story but I won’t neglect anyone. Promise!

THIS IS ONE MESSY HELL OF CHARACTER RELATIONSHIPS AHAHAHAHAHA

** Families **

**Nazyalenskys**

A family with long running ties to the royal family.

Most sons become either advisors or very powerful generals. Most daughters marry well and are powerful in their own right. Hence, they have a habit of spoiling their daughters, especially the pretty ones, but this doesn’t mean that daughters don’t become Queens. It is impossible to separate a Nazyalensky from the royal family completely and that alone gives them more influence than the less favored princes.

Baron Nazyalensky –  
Baroness Nazyalensky (nee Ivanov) – hailing from a powerful family, she is slightly arrogant and cannot stand things going out of her control. This may or may not prove to be her undoing… She also favors Zoya the most out of her daughters and places excess pressure on Zoya to fulfill her ambitions.

Zoya – the most favored and perhaps most pressured daughter. She gives a beautiful, charming and witty impression, but has plenty of ways to make others’ lives miserable. Most of the time, she listens to her biggest supporter – the Baroness – a.k.a. her mother. This is both a curse and a blessing. Her mother may reward her for anything she does, but will also reprimand her harshly for any mistakes and lack of foresight. She is nineteen at the beginning.

Nadya – the older of the twins. Secretly does not want to marry any son and later falls for someone who nearly caused her mother to disown her. Stopped by Baron Nazyalensky and they are allowed to be together, albeit in secret. The twins are seventeen at the beginning.

Marie – the least tactful of the twins. Her love for Sergei Beznikov is often used as leverage and one of the reasons that Alina was brought in.

Alina Starkova – originally an orphan, now presented as the “bastard” daughter of Nazyalensky. Nazylensky claims to outsiders that he was married to her mother before he met the Baroness and that her mother died in childbirth and admits to being a coward towards facing his own faults. But how much of that is truth one can imagine. Cunning, vengeful and cold from numerous betrayals in her past life, Alina wants nothing to do with the royal family except to make certain that Vasily will fall. However, she still has a soft spot for younger children, particularly the younger royal princesses.

**Royal family/Lantsov dynasty/whatever**

Rather…messy. And with the death of every king comes the death of countless others as the sons vie for the throne. Of course, one would wish that there was only one prince to inherit, but you cannot decide the gender of your children…and you want a spare...

King Alexander Lantsov III – a progressively incompetent king who used to be a much more reasonable ruler. Hence, he relies on advisors. However, he is rather good at sorting out good ideas and bad ideas.  
Queen Ekaterina Lantsova – (borrowed this name from my last story ahaha) a somewhat vain queen who is easily jealous. However, she loves her children and Princess Nina and would go to lengths to ensure their safety. In Alina’s past life she still failed to save most of her children’s lives as she lacked foresight.  
Crown Prince Vasily Lantsov – given the title of crown prince but to most it is obvious that he will not inherit due to his incompetent nature. However, he is cruel and ambitious enough (particularly with encouragement) to have taken the throne in Alina’s past life, and as a result massacred the rest of the Royal family, including Princess Nina’s husband and Nikolai’s son despite the Queen Mother’s protest and pleas for mercy. He has the same weakness as his father – a lack of own ideas.  
Prince Nikolai Lantsov – second in line to throne but much more cunning and smooth talking than Vasily. He is obviously a larger target but usually smooth-talks himself out of all sorts of situations. No one can tell if he is lying or not. In Alina’s past life Vasily trapped him by first destroying his allies in other countries and sending mercenaries after him, all after convincing the King that Nikolai intended to rebel.  
Prince Aleksandr Lantsov – the official bastard of the royal family. Likely the most manipulative and cunning out of all the sons, with a penchant for hiring spies and assassins rather than forming an army. However, he appears the most humble and subservient towards his father, granting him protection and doubt but not support as the King does not believe he has the necessary guts to become a good king. Alina doesn’t remember what happened to him as he disappeared as soon as Vasily murdered Nikolai.  
Princess Nina Zenik – technically the cousin of the princes, but Alexander killed her father…so there she is. She is aware of this but acts bubbly and happy either way as she doesn’t remember her parents at all. To separate her from the rest of the princes (and to give a valid reason for not killing her upon the rebellion lead by her father), she was given her mother’s name, counting her as someone unrelated to her father by name even if everyone knows what’s going on. The king favors her as she is no threat to the throne and closest to him emotionally, so anyone wise would not harm her. In Alina’s past life her husband was sent to his death for being a supporter of Nikolai due to ties and she died later on due to grief and abuse. Alina protects her in particular because at the moment she is still rather gullible, although Alina's actions directly force her to grow up. 

**Safin family**

Fairly new to nobility and low ranking, the Safin’s place their hope on their only surviving child – Genya – and her beauty.

General Safin – a fairly low ranking general who is not extremely exceptional and places his hope on his only surviving daughter – Genya.  
Lady Safina – a loving (albeit rather misinformed) mother. She is rather distant from Genya because she is afraid of emotional attachment.  
Evgenia (Genya) Safina – the girl known as the fairest in the land. Sent to court since young to make connections. The girl learned to become a good liar and weapon instead, but still holds on to some idealistic views, particularly of love.

**Kostyk family**

Fairly old, a family of scholars. Not exactly favored as they refuse to participate in any sort of risky discussion and thus are distant from the rest. However, they are known to be a family of extremely intelligent people and thus no one will easily do anything, as they can and will retaliate if provoked.

David Kostyk – typical of his family, mostly uninterested in marriage, alliance or politics, preferring to spend time in the imperial libraries and doing experiments occasionally considered crazy. However, he is brilliant enough to have some favor and protection.

**Followers/Important servants/Mercenaries**

Harshaw – a devout follower of Prince Nikolai for tolerating his revenge on the people who massacred his family and attempted to kill him. Nikolai in turn also made graves for his family and maintained them out of his own pocket.

Ruby – Alina’s servant, technically a lower class servant (thus evading the Baroness’ notice and considered useless in the grand scheme due to less close contact) but eventually becomes closer to Alina and promoted. She is not extremely bright but sufficient emotional support and learns quickly.

Ivan – one of the generals under Aleksandr’s command. He believes that Aleksandr will do what he wants to see and thus follows him without a word. As his brothers and father are all dead, he is willing to take risks as there is no one left that he loves. Fiercely loyal because he owes his life to Aleksandr for saving him from fighting in a war.

Dunyasha Lazareva – Aleksandr’s personal assassin, trained from birth. She is apparently a distant cousin of the throne and is fueled by Aleksandr’s promises of a title and wealth, believing that this would grant her peace of mind.


	3. Yesterday once more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...we are in for a ride, my friends.

Chapter 2 – Yesterday Once More

“Remember, Prince Vasily enjoys horse riding and admires intelligence. You will do well to keep that in mind.” The Baroness caressed her hair. “And he does prefer a more traditional style.”

“Yes, mother.” Alina nodded.

_I know what to do._

How many years did she spend with him? She knew exactly how to scare him off, starting with looking stupid and insolent.

“I have a book of some current racehorses. Please do have a look at them and remember some. You’ll definitely do better than some others!”

“Yes, mother. Can I please borrow it for the day?” Alina smiled innocently.

“Of course you may.” The Baroness looked pleased. “I’ll leave you to your own devices. Be ready at three, and I will send someone for you.”

Alina nodded.

_Time to screw this up completely._ Vasily liked tradition and a degree of conformity. There were still styles that he didn’t like though.

“May I assist?” One of the servant girls asked.

“I can do this, thank you.” Alina waved her off. As soon as she left, Alina pulled out the pink gown.

_I say you’d look good in pink, Alina. I believe that Vasily does have a penchant for the color._

Very well.

An hour later, she sported a head of uneven ringlets bound rather badly, leaning to the left side. She had purposefully altered the pink dress to fit badly and bunch up at the waist, and finally, the stupid grin and her dark circles in all their glory.

In the past she had been completely incompetent at makeup. She couldn’t say that she was much better now either, and it showed. They liked pale skin, she heard.

What could go wrong if she looked paler than a ghost?

Stupidity blinded your enemies. A lack of understanding certainly did hint at stupidity.

“Alina, the Baroness is calling.” One of the serving girls entered, and her mouth hung open.

They shouldn’t have left that girl alone at all.

Either way, Vasily was waiting with the Baroness. They would have to bring her and hope that she didn’t throw a fit.

The entire room could tell that Vasily was evidently not pleased with what was brought to him.

“Hello, Lady Alina.” He still bowed.

The bad curtsy that she had only managed to rid of when she married was back, coupled with her hair falling all over her face.

“Tsesarevich Vasily.” Alina replied flatly.

The baroness looked pained. Very much so.

“I will leave the two of you to get acquainted.”

_Perfecto._

“I heard that you like racehorses!” Alina blurted.

“That is true.” Vasily looked slightly less miffed.

“Dagen-Dagren-Da-something!” She stuttered. “Is he any good?”

_I could write a book on how to make this guy hate you. Starting with messing up his favorite horse._

Now he looked truly offended. “The best.” He replied coldly.

_Good. He’s shutting up._

“Well I did say that I didn’t grow up here. Sorry.”

_Lesson two, play up your non-noble upbringing. Since the Baroness wanted me to act humble, I will._

“Besides, it’s so freeing to be in the country. You should spend some time there with Dag-something!”

_Rinse and repeat._

Now Vasily looked truly disgusted. Internally, Alina screamed in triumph.

_Yes. This is going well._

“I apologize, Lady Alina, but I must leave.”

“Very well. Thank you, tsarevich.” She delivered another bad curtsy.

_Mission accomplished._

Besides, the Baroness wouldn’t be too unhappy. The baron never wanted anyone to be affliated with Vasily – affliation with the likely failure of the royal family was probably going to cost him some credibility.

The end would depend on Vasily’s determination to pursue a Lantsov-Nazyalensky alliance. As long as he did not want it, there was no need to bring in the question of refusing a prince. And he was much less eager now that he saw what exactly the Nazyalenskys were capable of.

Namely, shameless stupidity.

To someone in for the throne, having no ally in their own family was a recipe for disaster. A stupid ally was worse than a traitorous one. At least with a traitorous one you could get rid of much more easily. They were useful for planting false information.

Alina was fairly surprised when she was given an invitation to some party, apparently in celebration of Prince Aleksandr’s return from the front.

That was six months ago and it should have been five months ago that this was held, but in the entirety of the six months he was not in Os Alta. Rumors flew that he was assassinated or that he ran, but in the end he was back in one piece and breathing.

And if she recalled correctly, Zoya was infatuated with him. The baroness was not supportive of it.

And if she could use this well…Zoya would be a lot less inclined to blackmail her.

At this point, she would be expected to dress in blue as it was the color of the family coat-of-arms.

Previously, Zoya had dressed her in red deliberately to portray Alina as her foil – one refined, one not so much; one poised and elegant, the other awkward and shabby. Zoya’s mean streak wasn’t exactly limited to her either.

The baron was not happy especially when she replied innocently that Zoya said the color was what she should’ve worn. Still, he tolerated it.

This time it would be blue.

The gown that was given was one of Zoya’s older dresses that to no surprise did not fit. Zoya was taller, somewhat slender, and had a larger bust and wider hip. The epitome of beauty, after all, wasn’t a sheet of paper that disappeared when turned to the side.

A few hours later, perhaps with a meter of fabric removed, it finally fit her, not perfectly, but much better than previously. The silver embroidery at the bottom was taken out and Alina thought that it made her look a little less contrived.

The girl who was doing her hair was blonde. Very much so.

“Ruby, that is your name, right?”

“Yes, Lady Alina.”

“Are you by chance Fjerdan?”

“No, Lady Alina.” The panic in her eyes was not something that Alina would miss.

“You know that the Baroness hates Fjerda as she is quite…nationalist, if it is the right word.” She whispered.

“What is it that you want?” Ruby whispered back.

“I want what happens in this room to stay in this room.” She smiled.

“Yes, Lady Alina.” Ruby nodded, looking at her expectantly.

“That’s all for today.” She smiled. “Your hands are clever. I would offer you jewels for your work but alas, I do not have any.”

“You don’t talk as if you grew up in the country!” Ruby blurted. “I apologize for my outburst, Lady Alina.”

“No worries. You do not need to address me as Lady in this room.”

“Thank you, Alina.”

“Is it so strange to say my name as so?”

“Yes.” Ruby bit her tongue.

“You can get used to it if you wish.” She smiled. “And thank you for the hair. You may leave.”

Perhaps her last life was worth something.

Someone had found out that Ruby was Fjerdan by birth. The baroness was calm, seemly so, but after that Alina had never seen Ruby again.

It was good to have an ally. There wasn’t much that she could do if it came to light, but she was confident that at least she could hide the girl.

After all, she had her share of injustice. It would serve no good to perpetuate any others.

Any country girl would’ve been awed at the splendor of the grand palace, but Alina had half a lifetime behind the walls to see instead the confinement and limitations that were inherently part of it.

A gilded cage. That was what the grand palace entailed.

She’d do anything to get out of it for once and for all, but this time she needed to put on a smile.

Everyone was watching. Everyone would be watching. Her existence was already a scandal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! Even if you tell me it's shit, hey at least I'm doing something in self quarantine. Of course, a kudos would be even better. 
> 
> Starting school tomorrow...I live in China.
> 
> BTW ye what Alina did to Vasily is how you don't get the guy - you know what he likes and screw it up in all sorts of horrible ways. That's why I'm single. I'm Alina without intending to be her. 
> 
> Blackmailing Ruby...hmmm...Alina's moral values are very questionable, but after being betrayed countless times in her past life, I can't say I blame her. 
> 
> Oh yeah, we're getting Aleks and Nikolai next! I know you've been waiting for those two and I've been too! It's a game of who's more manipulative this time around. 
> 
> I actually did have a talk with my mom about the plot today. She was shocked that I keep on having characters blackmail, threaten, trap and hold wit battles when I don't know how to do any of those. In truth I am a hot headed person who prefers to slap someone straight up and tell them to get lost...so I'm not a 心机婊 I suppose...that's reserved for destroying characters.


	4. Banquet of Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get....DARKLES
> 
> Gotta love him

From her memory, the three princes had not changed much.

Vasily was still bored-looking and often absent.

Nikolai’s eyes were guarded and scanned every corner. If she remembered right, he was capable of internalizing a lot of information. Another dangerous man if made an enemy.

Aleksandr, despite being the reason for the banquet, was oddly subdued and sat quite far behind all the others, almost as if he did not care.

_I wonder what he wanted._

Being a bastard, Aleksandr obviously had less status despite his good abilities in command. The king definitely sheltered him to a degree more than the others but would never have supported his quest for the throne.

_Is he a coward or a snake?_

There was a difference to her at least. A coward didn’t think and retreated. A snake would bide its time.

However, she had Zoya’s little secrets that she stumbled upon.

If it wasn’t for Vasily’s argument with Zoya regarding her loyalties, she might’ve never known. Vasily had no ideas of his own but plenty of suspicions. Most of the time, those were correct to a degree.

_Thanks, Vasily. At least this one I could count on._

When the banquet finished and the dances began, she was surprised to find him looking at her with interest.

_Very well. Two can play this game._

She had twenty years at court from a life that she outlived. She knew how to waltz.

“May I?” He held out a hand.

It still took a moment for her to catch a breath.

Some things didn’t change. He still had the same sharp, beautiful features and carried himself with a certain elegance that the other two princes did not quite possess.

Maybe it was the way he moved, but there was still something else Alina couldn’t quite describe.

She nodded and placed a hand in his.

_Trouble seems to follow me._

This was another someone who hid his true feelings very well. No one could be so high-born with so little power and autonomy and yet appeared satisfied in his present with no interest in anything else, and yet there he was.

_Am I allowed to find it funny? He dances well._

“I believe you’ve made the acquaintance of my oldest brother.” He said.

“Tsarevich Vasily? Yes, but I wouldn’t put it so mildly. I hope that I did not make an overly negative impression.”

_Don’t betray anything._

She detected a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’ve made quite the lasting impression.”

“I see that he has told you so much. Perhaps then you know my faults? He doesn’t seem pleased and I know not why.”

“I would not wish to repeat.”

“I am not someone easily displeased, vashe vysochestvo.”

_Two can play this game._

“As you may know, my brother is rather…uncouth.”

“The tsarina will not be pleased to hear.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Alina almost wished that she could slap herself and take it back.

_No. Why did I say that? It would have been better to stay silent! Silent! There was value in staying the dumb country girl._

If the comment caused any realization, it didn’t show.

“I see you are looking out. Kindness isn’t something you can afford.”

_He’s giving me advice? Ha! I’ve had a lifetime of stupid mistakes to learn from._

_Oh wait, he can’t know that, can he?_

For a second she was almost sure that he definitely knew something was up.

When the dance ended, she scanned the crowd for Zoya. No sign of her.

_The baroness had already noticed, I see._

Zoya had long been infatuated with Prince Aleksandr. Perhaps his looks or perhaps his tact. Either way, it wasn’t his power or attempt at the throne – rather nonexistent.

Of course, the baroness didn’t want that.

She wanted her daughter to sit on the throne one day and become Tsarina. Zoya’s beauty, strict upbringing, and all the expenses…it wasn’t just that they could afford the lavish lifestyle. It was to prepare her for the role.

Accepting the dance meant accepting that Zoya would become her enemy.

A matter of time it was, after all. There were some things that the two of them – the baroness and Zoya – could never tolerate, such as things that spiral beyond their control. Alina was one of those things.

Later in her past life she had learned snippets of the fights that the baroness had with the baron. Of course, the decision was good, but the baroness could not tolerate the fact that the baron had made it on his own without her prior permission, especially when it concerned how her family was going to look.

Aleksandr’s interest? Certainly something out of their control. In the end, it was just pure luck for her design. It would have been good simply to be seen with him, but it was much better now that she knew her actions had his interest.

She still couldn’t quite understand why. Either way, a potential ally was a bonus. Aleksandr’s cunning was no joke.

Perhaps then he’d also remind her to be much more careful.

Alina smiled.

_The baroness should be busy lecturing and watching Zoya._

Next to the Tsar, Aleksandr wondered what exactly that smile meant.

He was certain that she could not have found out anything of importance. So why the smile?

Vasily was dead wrong – this girl was certainly not the stupid, insolent, and disgustingly naive creature that he described.

She’d either be a threat or a powerful ally and that he knew for sure. Vasily’s impression certainly did good for him – he would never ally himself with someone he considered so beneath him and he knew Vasily well enough – his personality, arrogance and perceived sense of self worth was enough to convince himself that this girl was not what he needed.

Aleksandr was never pleased at his disregard for the common folk of Ravka. And having a potential ally who only reminded him of the disdain he felt pushed him further from the throne than any word from the tsar could.

Vasily could be tsar in name but winning the hearts of the common folk? That was a entertaining, albeit tragic joke. 

Either way, this was a small victory he could afford to savor.

There was not much to do but dance, observe, and plot. That was true for Alina, Nikolai, Aleksandr and even Vasily.

Banquets were less social and more political if you were any threat to someone else’s dreams of ascension.

_Now one would ask, where is Zoya?_

When Alina arrived back at the Nazyalensky mansion, a rather tearful Zoya had emerged from one of the sitting rooms. Inside sat the baroness, her lips pursed and her expression unreadable.

_Do I smile or say hi?_

The baroness probably wouldn’t be looking to cause her trouble. After all, she did help to expose Zoya’s true feelings towards Aleksandr. She’d be much more concerned looking over her daughter than trying to manipulate her into an advantageous marriage or some sort of action for the “greater good” of the family.

Zoya’s anger, however, was probably something she needed to deal with.

The glare told her more than enough. It told her to be careful and watch her every step, because now she had made an enemy.

_But wasn’t it always that way?_

Zoya’s disdain for Alina’s status was quite well known and quite well tolerated.

In the past, she hid from Zoya, cowered, and flattered her as to not aggravate her. However, this only made it worse when Zoya was determined to find a scapegoat or someone to take her anger out on.

Was it worth a fight? Perhaps.

Alina still couldn’t forgive Zoya for being the one to suggest her imprisonment. And like a fool, Vasily thought nothing of the arrow that she had took for him or the poisoned wine that she had once saved him from.

No, his thoughts were long with Zoya, her beauty, and Alina’s awkward status and the initial slight that had lead to their marriage. Years of help and assistance could not repay that one act of disrespect.

There wasn’t any mercy that she should show should it come to her life. And in the end, she wasn’t sure she could escape a similar path.

Still, the fact that Aleksandr had noticed her was already putting her on a similar path. Another path of bloodshed, power games, plotting, cunning, murder…

Could she take it? If she could see Vasily fall and retribution exacted, she would do it.

Alina stared at the moon outside.

The night before she had died, the moon was just as faint a sliver as it was now.

Was it a sign or was it just coincidence?

_Thank the saints._ She thought. _I think I needed this chance._

Gratitude. That was what she felt. Gratitude for the functional legs and unbroken skin. Gratitude that she had not felt much pain. Gratitude that she might’ve had a sliver of control.

_But would it be Nikolai or Aleksandr when it comes to the throne?_

She wasn’t sure how to answer that question.

Nikolai certainly had better foreign support and the hearts of many. Aleksandr had his mind and trained assassins that she knew of. Both of them were certainly better choices than Vasily. Nikolai also had the power of legitimacy and a mother who would protect him at all costs.

Certainly, it didn’t matter in the end as even the pleas of the Queen Mother did not stop Vasily from killing Nikolai, his family and many of his prominent supporters. The rest were probably sent somewhere to die under the guise of manual labor. It was just another death sentence.

Aleksandr…

His fate was strange. Disappearance. Alina had often wondered if it was Vasily who had hid him, but the anger that Vasily showed when there was no trace of the third prince was all that she needed to figure out that he couldn’t find him and the lack of control completely defeated him.

Either way, his mother and sister couldn’t run from the fate of suicide.

Perhaps that was the best decision. Vasily would have no doubt tortured one in front of the other to obtain Aleksandr’s location and knowing his nature the two would never have it.

Another ploy to draw him out. Even then, no one could predict his actions.

_Somewhere else, someone is probably analyzing this too._

Alina called for a glass of warm milk.

This time, she was going to make herself comfortable.

A book and a glass of milk later, she fell soundly asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started school.
> 
> I've gained weight.
> 
> I'm losing weight. Just by stressing about school ahaha
> 
> The updates will come but maybe slower. 
> 
> Leave a kudos and comment! I really enjoy hearing what everyone else thinks about this crazy story! And tell me how you like Aleks in this version...he's still a manipulative ass after all. And very, very interested in Alina.
> 
> As usual. 
> 
> Argh writing Nikolai is super hard. He's coming up next and I'll try to do the too-clever fox justice one day.


	5. Debacles for marriage

“Vasya, you need a bride.” Aleksandr slid the king’s letter onto his brother’s desk.

“What? Is that necessary?” Vasily took another swig of kvas.

“I doubt that father would be happy to hear that you bought another ranch.” He sighed. “You know that he believes that excess is the route to debauchery.” Aleksandr almost wanted to laugh. Well, he certainly had no issue ignoring his own beliefs.

_Take the bait._

“He can’t control me.”

“But you’ll earn his favor.”

There was an unmistakeable glint of anticipation in Vasily’s eyes.

“I’ll always have you to thank, Sasha.” Another bottle down. Vasily’s eyelids drooped even more.

“I’m waiting for the wedding and the nephew.” He replied, taking a small sip from his glass. “Or the niece.”

“You think too much.” Vasily laughed before his head hit the table.

Vasily was drunk again.

Aleksandr allowed himself a small smile. _Pathetic._

He’d probably remember some of it and the tsar’s favor was enough of an incentitive.

Reminding him of marriage would probably steer him far enough away from Alina as well.

Alina. That was her name? Vasily never suspected a thing. Someone so disagreeable was likely not unintentionally so.

Clever girl. To know people’s thoughts so well…he doubt that he could match her ability despite being older and far more exposed to court.

There was something not quite right.

The Nazyalenskys, of course, probably had their fair share of hidden weapons and this daughter was probably one of them.

Clearly, they were a lot more dangerous than he had expected.

It would do well for him if he were to receive this alliance first. Nikolai’s foreign alliances and Vasily’s command as Crown Prince made both of them more than formidable when it came to making enemies.

But how were he to do it without raising Vasily’s suspicions? Vasily would want to weaken him and although he did not fancy a fool by his side, Vasily knew well enough that any alliance with a powerful family was a threat to him.

Likely, his interest at the moment would cost him Vasily’s protection and a shield for anything he would do eventually. But anyone who married a fool…they must’ve had reason, right?

Vasily wasn’t smart enough to have ideas of his own but he was smart enough when it came to analyzing the situation at hand.

No, he didn’t want that.

He would have to wait. _As you always do._

Perhaps he could trick Nikolai into doing something stupid. _Intelligent people have a habit of overthinking._

Nikolai was good at exploiting this one when it came to his mother.

_The less of a threat I am at surface will probably raise suspicion. Perhaps Dunyasha could be convinced to enter and leave Os Alta when he arrives without murdering someone._

He knew with a less than pleased look that Dunyasha’s abilities were unmatched, but her habit of acting up and taking challenges was a huge problem. Her mental stability would likely expose her sooner or later and then by proxy expose too much ambition.

The ideal was someone who would just appear and disappear. Someone who raised concern but no certainty. The thought would likely occupy Nikolai for a while and provide a good enough distraction for him to put down whatever mask he was wearing.

Either way, in the end Nikolai must not have found sufficient evidence to report to the tsar his concerns. It was only him and his thoughts alone.

A better chance for him to weaken Nikolai. No matter how dutifully he played the role of a slightly vapid and excessively imaginative strategist – two qualities that would likely make him less of a threat in Vasily’s eyes – Nikolai was likely more powerful than he appeared.

Both his entourage to his spending suggested to him that he had either more support or property that he had ever let on. Add it to the fact that he was almost always away from court – something wasn’t right.

It was a clever way to prevent himself from being targeted. And when he was at court, he was always near the tsar and tsarina, attempting to please them and dutifully taking care of anything that might’ve caused them trouble.

Ivan might’ve been a better choice for the suspicion, but he didn’t possess the same capabilities for silent escape as Dunyasha did. Both of them were powerful fighters but in completely different ways. Dunyasha was better at sneak attacks and maintaining speed. Ivan…he couldn’t sneak as well.

If only Dunyasha was mentally more stable…

There was a problem in being secretive and that was hiding power. There was only so much that one could hide in a mansion even if one were a prince.

~~~

Alina had no peace when it came to Zoya this time.

_She had not changed._ This much was certain.

Zoya enjoyed the sense of superiority and control as well as the availability of someone to take her anger out on. God forbid that she take her anger out on any of her mother’s spies, so what was left became Alina and her sisters.

_It was a sad thing to be less useful by comparision._ Alina thought of both Nadia and Marie. Both beautiful, but not stunning the way Zoya was.

Neither of them could command a room with one look. That, was the power of extreme beauty.

Neither of them had the favor and ambition spoon fed bit by bit either. Zoya was beautiful, but she looked much more exceptional next to others less fortunate than herself.

_And neither of them could convince someone to torture and imprison their wife._ Alina thought sourly. Whether it was Zoya’s beauty or her obedience or her desire to destroy all that went out of her control Alina wasn’t quite sure, but there was certainly all of it and more.

There was one exception to Zoya’s power though.

Alina smiled. Perhaps she had an ally this time.

Evgenia Safina, lady in waiting to the tsarina, and perhaps the only person who could really contest Zoya in a battle of looks. Evgenia, or Genya as most called her, was a completely different type of beauty.

Zoya also loathed the girl. Of course, someone less high-born than Zoya shouldn’t have been such a concern. One could admire Genya but not go beyond observation due to status, power and family decisions.

Still, Zoya, in the end, relied on her beauty above all else. Genya’s position rose the girl high enough that Zoya knew that she should spare concern.

If Alina remembered correctly, Zoya had announced Genya’s liaison with the tsar which resulted in her disappearance. Whether suicide or assassination she did not know for certain, but she had a fairly good guess. The tsar wanted a good name, at least.

But first, there was Zoya’s plotting to deal with. Destroying her clothing, giving her servants permission to lecture her…the baroness had more to deal with than petty fights and although obedient, Zoya wasn’t someone even her mother could quite completely control.

Likely, Zoya was still angry at her mother’s reaction towards her feelings for Aleksandr.

Alina would’ve felt the same if she were the same girl long ago.

_That girl is dead. You are not to sympathize, Alina. Will Zoya? No. She’d step on you and make sure that you weren’t coming right back up for her._

At least she had well fitting replacement clothing. That also gave her an excuse to get rid of most of the servants. Her guess was that they were chosen by the baroness due to loyalty and with the exception of Ruby, reported on most of her actions.

It was tiring to pretend day after day, to give nothing and convince the baroness that she was docile, stupid, and rather dimwitted. Now she could do most of her planning in peace.

Nikolai and Aleksandr were the two most powerful opponents to Vasily.

Nikolai would make more sense and yet he shared more blood ties to Vasily. Whether he would turn out to be someone similar when it came to treating a threat…Alina wasn’t fully sure. They had never gotten to that point.

It seemed that Nikolai was much more aware of his reputation. In the end, he hadn’t been forced to become the sole decision maker.

Aleksandr…she had no doubt that he’d kill Vasily without any hesitation, along with Nikolai and their supporters. He had no reason not to. Those people weren’t completely his brothers and he probably wouldn’t be merciful.

Alina wasn’t sure if she wanted to see Nikolai’s death. Ravka could use someone like Nikolai – clever, quick on his feet and charming. Ravka could also use someone like Aleksandr – quiet, less flamboyant, and action oriented.

If only they weren’t princes but mere nobles…

Another tragedy in the making. Both of them were losses if they were executed and yet there was no way that she could save both of them. But just one of them would be better than Vasily’s ascension. She’d never watch that a second time.

Right now, he was the most harmless of the three princes, but those years in her past life gave her more knowledge on what he was truly capable of in terms of cruelty and that would be another tragedy.

Nikolai had been lucky to receive a swift death. His generals were not so fortunate – the gallows were soaked in blood when the killing finally stopped.

Her…

He gave permission for enough cruelties. Singed skin, impromptu amputation, and poison testing. The difference was that she wasn’t meant to die until he gave the order. The guards had nothing to do but pass the time with torture, and every time they’d stop before it was risky to go on.

Was it why she came back to life? Legends did say that if one died with enough anguish, their memories wouldn’t be erased in reincarnation because nothing could erase the pain of betrayal.

No one else could understood what she went through, Alina supposed. Vasily’s throne was secured by her, and yet in a span of months she was imprisoned and no better than any of Nikolai’s followers, enduring more than just the physical torture.

She suspected that Vasily saw her in the end as a threat and a source of shame. Most of them knew that Vasily had no chance until she came along, thrust into an odd position she had no idea existed.

If she could give him the throne, she could probably give it to someone else too. Add it to the fact that he wanted Zoya first, not the girl who appeared out of of nowhere, and the favor of the Nazyalenskys.

There was just too much that wasn’t her fault.

Zoya’s plots would probably cease a little now that she could retreat. The next public event would be the welcoming of Nikolai’s return, and there was Zoya, Nikolai, and Aleksandr to track.

The baroness wouldn’t be causing her too much trouble.

_I distracted Aleksandr. That alone probably made her happy that Zoya would move on from what she viewed as a useless match with a pretty face and not much else._

The baroness was wrong about one thing though.

_Aleksandr is more than a pretty face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...at least we get Nikolai next. 
> 
> Aleks you 心机婊. Vasily doesn't like Alina and you gotta rub that in for enhanced effect. Still, do you like her or only see use?
> 
> Zoya's being a bitch. I'm not surprised - she does not like Alina and probably never will. Her mom though isn't that unhappy. Even if it is out of her control, at least she got the result she wanted.
> 
> Heaven forbid you go against the angel of vengeance. Should I rename the story that?


	6. Plots and schemes

“I found another dead frog under your bed.” Ruby shook her head.

“I’m not sure what Zoya’s thinking this time.” _So dead frogs will put Aleksandr’s eyes on you?_

“Should you apologize?” Ruby asked carefully.

“What do I have to apologize for? Stealing her beau? Or just dancing with him?”

“I don’t know.” Ruby admitted. “Would it help though?”

_I know it won’t from experience. Stealing her throne? Die. She had no issue with that._ “I don’t think so. All I did was to dance with a prince.”

“She has eyes for him.”

“Don’t we all?” Alina laughed. “Does a pretty face make for petty revenge?”

“I found a few dead shrimp under the curtains.” Ruby shook her head.

“I wish she knew that this wasn’t going to drive me out. Is it going bad already?” 

Something was wrong when Alina had arrived to dinner.

One could tell when the baron was troubled. It wasn’t just the fact that Zoya was executing petty revenge on Alina and verbally abusing the other two – he wouldn’t have been so silent if that was the only issue.

“There has been famine in the Tsibeya and unrest.” Zoya managed to pry a single sentence out, but it was enough for the rest of the meal to be consumed in silence.

Post dinner, the baron shut himself back into his study, leaving the baroness, her daughters and Alina to fill the silence.

“What are the options, mother?” Alina asked.

Zoya’s pride would definitely get the better of her.

The baroness had began to speak, but Zoya cut her off and raised her voice. “Donation?”

_Hook, bait, reel._

“What if I say that they need to be recorded first? Identified? I’d think that the weak would need an edge.”

Zoya’s eyes widened.

“We also need the support of the rich. They have adequate supply and can either donate or sell at lowered prices. They will receive rewards for their efforts and financial penalties if they do not.”

Even the baroness was now watching intently.

“The typical response would be soup kitchens, wouldn’t it?” Alina asked. “But I’d wager a guess that no one really cares and will not do it right, will they? Otherwise, we won’t be having this conversation. If the results of their famine measures are related to their salaries and position, I’m sure that they’ll care more. After, we should implement a tax cut for the peasantry and control the prices of grain. When the price is low, the local authority should purchase and in times of famine sell at a lowered price.”

_Are you listening?_

The baroness looked completely shocked.

“How did you think of it?” She asked suspiciously.

“I grew up with the peasantry. I think I might understand the specifics from experience.” She replied. “Famines aren’t uncommon, and I must sleep. I am very tired, mother. I will sleep early tonight.”

_Have you taken the bait, Zoya?_

Prince Nikolai’s return involved a good natured appearance at every noble family, accompanied by Prince Aleksandr, perhaps to show unity, or perhaps just to spy on him. _Probably some of both, but the question of which one he’d admit to would make for an interesting debate._

In reality, Alina knew that what would occur with plenty of certainty and would have asked for the cause of the baron’s worry if Zoya did not. The same famine had happened soon after she arrived from Keramzin and it seemed that most of what happened stayed the same.

All were present when it came to welcoming the princes. Had Alina not been present to the sheer number of occasions as a royal, she probably wouldn’t have known what to do.

Which had happened before.

It was a loss for the family, but a rather minor one. The loss was repaid by her dependence.

_Stupidity and gratitude are good for control,_ she had later realized, but at the time she was shockingly oblivious. And far too trusting.

Maybe she took a little too much pleasure in watching Zoya’s shock. Who could have known that she already had a lifetime to regret?

_It’s only me._ Who would’ve thought it was possible to live twice?

Normally, after greetings, Zoya would leave and do so promptly.

_So quick to want your chance at a reputation of intelligence? Or is it someone’s heart you desire?_

It seemed that Nikolai had the best chance should it come to a fight. Aleksandr was pretty but had little support within the nobility. Vasily…no one in the right mind would pick him as a potential king – neither favored or exceptional. There were better, more suited _cousins_ to the princes.

_I obviously wasn’t in the right mind. Maybe I am petty, but I’d rather not a repeat of having broken legs and years of prison with several sadistic guards._

_It’s a petty lesson for_

The praise for Zoya’s intelligence and kindness was success.

_She took the bait._

“Are you not mad?” Ruby asked her as she combed through Alina’s hair. “She took your ideas. No credit whatsoever!”

“Why would I be?” Alina smiled. “I have no desire to be associated with those ideas.”

“Did I hear right?”

“You’ll see. Has my hair been growing better?” Ruby nodded. “Then we have no problem at all on our hands.”

. . . .

“What kind of thought goes in your mind, girl?” The baroness demanded the next week.

“I do not know, mother.”

“Solve it.” It was clear that she was losing control. “Solve it or else Zoya will not be able to make a good marriage.”

“She was the one who came up with those ideas.”

_Zoya really did not need to go through the trouble of intentionally making my life harder. Or stealing my words._

“Very well. I’ll think on it.”

The baroness shook her head. “Perhaps next time don’t talk strategy in front of her.”

“Alright.”

_Or perhaps Zoya could stop her copying. Was she less cruel at eighteen than in her twenties? Or is it just that I haven’t surpassed her?_

Would they have at least forged a respectful relationship if she wasn’t queen? Zoya would look down on her for her birth and there was nothing else that she could do other than disappear, but Alina doubted that murder had yet crossed her mind. Or torture. Zoya was not beyond saving, she supposed. Vasily was far beyond saving.

Any prince had to be cruel in a fight against most of the talent in the world. In a few years with the King’s deteriorating health, the princes would have to fight one another. Now was the time to prepare them for any manner of betrayal.

Did avenging herself include Zoya?

If she stood on anyone’s side other than Vasily’s, she was bound to become a target. If she stood on his side, she would still suffer a similar fate. Anyone too powerful or too knowledgeable would ultimately perish.

Perhaps she also reminded him of his days as a crown prince – in title only. Nikolai made decisions. Aleksandr was his father’s shadow. He didn’t really have as much of a place as the other two.

She might’ve reminded him of the fact that he was dependent and that was not what he wanted, perhaps.

Questions for another time, Alina decided.

“I have a strategy that I would like to present. It is in this pamphlet.”

~~~

“Father, who wrote this?” Vasily inquired.

“Nazyalensky’s bastard daughter.” The tsar answered.

“Alina?” He asked, not quite sure.

“I believe so.”

_Something wasn’t right._

“And is it good?” Aleksandr inquired.

“See for yourself.” His father handed him the pamphlet.

“Interesting.” He remarked.

Vasily peered at the sheet. “I have to agree with you, Sasha.” Even if he had stayed calm, something about the pamphlet unsettled him to the core.

This wasn’t something that should’ve come from a teenage girl’s hand. He was certain that not even his mother could’ve considered the sheer number of potential issues that had been listed on the first page alone.

Was it jealousy? Or was it just rage at his lack of ability to figure others out?

Did Aleksandr have it all figured out then? It didn’t sit quite right. If this was Aleksandr after all, then he had a formidable threat. Vasily dismissed the thought. _Aleksandr would know his place._

And perhaps Aleksandr knew exactly where it was. He eyed the throne and then Vasily, perfectly content to look subordinate, until he saw Nikolai.

_The bastard._ Nikolai was a smarter threat, less coddled by the respect a crown prince commanded.

If there was anything history taught him, it was that too much respect for a child lent itself to failure. Hence, it was hardly ever that a crown prince ascended the throne the way he was meant to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay! I had a lot of personal things going on and it was really hard to write. I'm gonna be back to faster updates!


	7. Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! I really live for comments ahaha since I'm super socially awkward in real life and I get scared of people and interaction...
> 
> And who's the most shady right now?

It was fair to say that the baroness was still somewhat happy with her. At least, she managed to repulse Vasily enough, and would likely keep Aleksandr away from Zoya. The scandals would die down and Zoya would still be the fairest and most influential girl in Os Alta. Zoya’s hand would still be sought, Aleksandr would find someone else and break her heart, and they’d all be family of the next tsarina.

All except Alina.

Things were already playing out very differently. Why did everything go better when she never bothered with sincerity? And surprisingly, it did hurt. _Had I been the fool I was, I’d be a pawn._ It wasn’t fair that her only source of safety and respect came from deceit and mind games. _There is no room for weakness or truth._

_Go visit Aleksandr. I’ll take you in the carriage if you wish._

So maybe she was still a pawn. But this one worked in her favor.

And it turned out that she didn’t need it. The very next day, a painted coach – Lantsov blue - pulled by a pair of black horses arrived.

Alina searched the baroness’ face for any sign of expectation and found none. The surprise that she had felt herself was mirrored onto the baroness’ slightly widened eyes.

_So interest is a good thing, I suppose?_

Without even hesitating, she motioned for Alina to follow her out.

“Apologies for the lack of preparations,” the baroness curtsied, “we were not expecting guests.”

“There is no need for that, Mrs Nazylensky,” he nodded. “I should apologize for disturbing the two of you.”

_Good timing. Good timing._

“I apologize for having to leave,” the baroness said. “I still have errands to take care of.” Another swish of her skirts and she was gone.

_I see what you are doing. At least this time, it works in my favor too._

“What do you want from me?” The baroness was out of earshot.

He was almost amused by the question.

_And he made no mention of his title._

“I didn’t expect you to be so direct.”

“I didn’t either.”

He almost smiled. “An alliance.”

“There’s nothing here that you could want. I won’t inherit, I can’t sway my father, and I have no power.”

_I can guess what he wants, but he needs to say it. Unless I can keep myself of value, there is no way I’d survive to get revenge, but how well does he lie?_

Even in another life, it still shocked her how little she actually knew of Aleksandr. Would he still display the telltale signs of a lie? Or did his reserved nature mask it all?

“Vasily. I promise that no harm will come to you.”

Still cool, still calm.

_Does he know that I despise Vasily? Or is it just the rejection that should hurt? That was all too welcome._

“He has no chance against you and me.” He stepped closer to her. “Ravka needs a queen who does more than make appearances.”

_He could say all of this and it would always be his word against mine should I tell anyone. I understand now, Aleksandr. So is it your true thoughts that you are offering me?_

Is _any risk in your offer? I have a head to lose. He has one too. Vasily could send him to any front, but I’d doubt that the tsar would trust his less than outspoken son to have the insight. He’s in a good position._

“That is ambitious.” Alina finally said, searching his face for anything, anything to tell her what he thought, not what he thought that she wanted to hear.

“Will anything else bring you what you want?” His tone was still collected, but there was a harshness to the words that wasn’t there previously.

_If I agree, no one can know._ It was not like she had enough power to pick her alliances.

And what more could she hope for? The baroness would be pleased that she was associating herself with someone within the Lantsov family, and that she kept Zoya’s hopes for Aleksandr at a solid zero. And in the end, if she were trouble, Zoya’s ascension to the throne would give them enough power to dispose of her. Maybe in her mind, it was a good way to keep Alina in line but in a position to benefit the entire family.

“I accept.” 

_Was it joy that I detected in his eyes, or was it just something he put there knowing that I would catch on?_

What should’ve been her first concern was how far he knew of her capabilities.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Alina.” He said, his voice low. “You and I will change the world.”

_That sounds oddly like a compliment._

Alina knew to examine every word, but nothing was quite adding up.

He knew, she thought, that compliments would likely not endear him in any way _._ So what game was he playing?

“I am not quite the person.”

“I think we’ll see.”

Aleksandr took her hand and kissed it. “Au revoir, Alina. I enjoyed talking to you.”

_His eyes are gray._ How did that slip her mind? She could remember that he didn’t have hazel eyes like Nikolai or Vasily. _All the better to showcase his royal bastard status,_ she thought.

There was no doubt that Aleksandr was good looking, and she guessed that he was using it to his advantage again, and perhaps that was for the best. He didn’t need to know that she had seen a lifetime of flattery and pursuits aimed at swaying her decisions. All he needed to know was that she was a young woman and her strengths lay in plotting with no mention to romance.

It would be best to play along.

If he were so willing to express interest, she probably held a certain amount of importance, and that was a step in the right direction.

Aleksandr was not their only visitor either. Count Beznikov’s son – Sergei if she recalled correctly – showed up with gifts for Marie, and did not leave until much later.

_Marie is too direct and brash._ Alina watched the two laugh and walk. _And that is how you’ve given others leverage._

Figuring out where Marie’s interests lay was far too easy.

And Maire never quite figured out her mother’s priorities either.

The baroness loved her daughters, but she had her ideas of what was right – and maintained them quite well. What was right for her daughters was in essence what was right for her in the moment.

_How unfortunate._ Alina shook her head. She wasn’t sure if all would end well.

Zoya definitely wasn’t pleased with the lack of suitors in her life, and similarly displeased she was at both Marie and Alina. For the rest of the evening, she sulked in the corner with Nadia, occasionally glaring at Marie and then Alina.

_The pranks will start again. I wonder what it would be this time?_

~~~

Aleksandr definitely did not like the feeling that he missed something.

It definitely didn’t escape his notice that she was attempting to hide, calculating her moves and words to reveal as little as possible, and her proficiency was mildly disturbing.

One would think that a girl who grew up far away from the mind games of nobility could possess intelligence and exceptional observational skill, but the habit of concealing intention or emotion didn’t quite happen.

He wondered what kind of lies Baron Nazylensky was attempting to craft. Alina didn’t just inherit Nazylensky’s sharp mind but was also raised some way else other than the truth that the Baron had claimed.

Regardless, he felt he had slight success. At least she did not refuse his alliance and that was success.

_You’re of use to me._ He was sure that to a degree, she felt the same. His alliance could offer a lot more than a promise of a crown. She had likely saw Vasily’s lack of competence and rather arrogant nature. For whatever reason she wanted to ally with him, it was solid in her actions.

What he did carried risk of treason and conspiracy, and she would understand. The fact that she was willing to take the risk was enough to warrant a little trust in her views of Vasily.

He had his advantages. People were willing to trust and protect a pretty face, and despite Baghra’s mockery, it had made some parts of his life a lot easier. For one, his father loved pretty things and he happened to be another one of those.

Vasily didn’t have to maintain the attention. He had enough as a crown prince. Nikolai slithered into notice with sweet words and undeniable charm. Those methods weren’t quite his forte and they drew the wrong kind of attention. It was better to have notice but not the type that suggested a threat.

_Don’t reveal more than what they would see._ Baghra’s flat tone, her shuffling and the thump of her cane…that was probably the only thing with any power whatsoever against him.

One needed a thick skin to publicly be a bastard. _Dignity, even if you have to fake it. Head high! Smile at your father and the tsarina!_ Baghra drilled him in many things unrelated to his studies – likeability, silent charm, maintaining a pleasing presence, even an acceptable resting face.

What else would he have been had it not been for the lessons?

“Ivan,” he said, his voice low. “Have Dunyasha report back on Nikolai’s response. I have given her enough time.”

Ivan simply nodded. In private, he didn’t consider Ivan to be below him in any way. They saved each other and thus they were equal. Ivan’s lack of hesitation at any order he gave was promising, and he lacked enough to lose.

There were things that Aleksandr possessed – a mother – that Ivan didn’t, and that could have made him a great mercenary. Perhaps he trained like one, fought like one and acted like one, but he considered his debt to Aleksandr as more than just a tangible price. Loyalty wasn’t so easy to buy. Aleksandr could be outbid with his rather meagre fortune, but no one else could claim to have offered Ivan an opportunity to exact whatever revenge he wished.

Vasily was too arrogant. Nikolai would have weighed and considered his image. Aleksandr trusted him to shut up and clean up.

He wondered what type of person Alina would turn to be. Her loyalty, if there was any, would have hopefully been driven by their goal, which ultimately raised a lot of questions.

What would happen had they achieved it? There was still Nikolai to consider, but hopefully she liked the idea of being tsarina well enough to consider him a permanent ally.

Nikolai would not offer the same. His vision was likely on a foreign alliance to solidify his hold on diplomatic relations

The king would live long enough for him to take his time with Vasily, but he still had to keep Nikolai in a position to be defeated. Vasily was a sort of balance to Nikolai because he antagonized his brother a bit too much. With Vasily gone, Nikolai would have no other reason than his father to hold back on building strength and power.

And the tsar…he was rather easily swayed if one played their cards right. Nikolai was clever enough to figure out a way to make it seem that it was never for himself, but for the good of the nation…and for the tsar, all wrapped up in smiles and affection.

How would Alina fare against Nikolai? She was still, after all, a teenage girl.

Something about that rubbed Aleksandr in the wrong way. Her defensiveness and caution was definitely far beyond anyone’s, and he could only think of a handful of people that he had similar troubles with.

And for the millionth time, he thought of what trouble that would bring him.

It was risky to take on an ally that you couldn’t figure out, but he hoped that she took a similar risk in agreeing to his offer.

At least then they’d be even.

_Or you should perhaps think of her as something else entirely,_ a voice nagged. It sounded like Baghra, but not quite, and perhaps it was right.

He had never known anyone quite so…strange. Even if the word didn’t describe her perfectly, it was an accurate impression of what he felt and perhaps in a way, it was correct, but perfectly useless.

Vasily needed to stay alive and stay in power until he could secure a better promise of loyalty.


	8. Cards on a table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Very occupied at the moment with lots of competition prep and I really wish I could've had more time to spend on this. 
> 
> Fine. Make me your villain XD

Alina sat alone again. Ruby was probably busy elsewhere, and perhaps it was best that she stayed alone when the memories hit her the hardest.

_The first fight._

That was when she had married Vasily for just about two months. He proclaimed that he had the respect of the people, his army, whatnot, strutting across the room as if he were the king of the world without anything to fear, almost as if he had already survived the struggle for the throne.

How could she make him understand that Vasily, the man, was not a respected figure?

Maybe he hated her for that too. Hated her for making him realize that he was not loved at all. _Don’t shoot the messenger,_ they say, but no one really listened.

Was she supposed to cry at the thought? Maybe when she had loved him, but she could stop loving someone who had hurt her beyond what was “neccessary”.

The thought prompted her to draw her legs back out of the blanket, relieved that they were still whole, unmarked, and covered in skin and not scars. In her mirror, she was still young, girlish, and perhaps a little stupid looking, but it was far better than the grime covered face of an old woman she had caught in her cup of water.

She shuddered involuntarily.

And far before that, she remembered taking one of Aleksandr’s arrows aimed at Vasily’s heart. A cup of poison. Riding a horse in the middle of the night and being soaked in rainwater. Her fever lasted about four days and she recalled that he had only visited her once.

In the end, it had all been for nothing.

_I need to learn my lesson this time._

Aleksandr was no saint, but she wanted to see Vasily fall in the most humiliating manner, and his pride would not tolerate Aleksandr’s power. Nikolai may have been devious, charming and logical to an extreme, but he was not hardened the same way a bastard would be. He shared a mother with Vasily, after all.

He could be convinced to spare Vasily, but Aleksandr would not have let such a threat live. Not when Vasily was keen on killing him. Aleksandr’s philosophy of exacting an equal revenge had previously been foreign and unfathomable, but where did that kind of thinking lead?

Nikolai seemed intent on stripping Vasily of his title and the majority of his wealth, but Aleksandr had always gone for death every single time.

She shouldn’t have foiled those attempts.

_He had an assassin of sorts right?_ Alina asked herself. _Dunsha? Yasha? Dasha? I should ask next time._

_Would he think that I have spies? He would probably think anything, but where would I get the resources for spies? It’s not like the baroness would give me anywhere near enough money to hire someone to spy on him._ The baroness, giving Alina money? Ha! Alina would probably laugh herself silly if she dwelt on the prospect for too long.

And it wasn’t like Aleksandr trusted anyone completely. Maybe his mother. Maybe Ivan. But the fact that he took precautions against both were proof enough that he didn’t trust and didn’t bother trusting. It was going to be the same for her.

_I could deal with that as long as he trusts me in the right places._

Maybe he didn’t even trust her enough for that. She couldn’t offer power, but she had plenty of information. Everyone had their own ways of collecting information. Taverns, restaurants, bars…any sort of business was game. People let their guards down at the most unexpected of places, in the most unexpected of ways…

_What would he do with Vasily’s restaurant if I tell him?_

The benefit of being a long-time enemy was her awareness for his methods of collection – and where.

_Would that unsettle him?_

Had that life twisted her so far that she liked it? But either way, Aleksandr was a dangerous and often ruthless ally. If she became useless or had other interests, he would have no hesitations in killing her to ensure that none of his questionable actions would ever come to light.

It was always better to just have a little more power and leverage. Just a little more was quite satisfying.

Feeling encouraged, Alina picked up a sheet of paper and started writing, as neatly as possible. That was another issue that she had. Was there anything that she could have to erase some of those horrible memories? Being ridiculed for her lackluster and downright illegible penmanship was another bad memory that Zoya had made. The only upside was that once the brothers started truly vying for the throne, her writing had come in handy when it came to messages. Vasily had taught himself to read it and perhaps Aleksandr could be taught too.

_Racer’s tavern._ One of the more accessible places. Vasily might not have been smart, but he was right in his varied sources of information.

 _The Galloping Winehouse._ As odd as it was, it worked. Plenty of wine was needed for the sheer number of occasions that required it. There were probably some other ones that she couldn’t name at the top of the head, but liquor stores were surprisingly efficient when it came to information in Os Alta. People seemed much more willing to give information after a few drinks and some pleasant conversation.

After all, they were all Ravkan. The love for kvas, wine, beer…it didn’t matter if you were noble or peasant. All that mattered was that at some point the country was bound to make you miserable and the one thing there was the alcohol. Ravka, after all, was a farming nation.

And perhaps a warring one.

It had seemed to quell for the time being, but there was no doubt that as long as Shu Han and Fjerda existed, Ravka would need its borders guarded.

_What am I doing?_

Now all she needed was to wait, because allies banded together for a reason. And maybe because she was certain that he would seek her out.

It wouldn’t be a wise decision to leave a weapon dormant.

~~~

“What do you think you are doing?” The baroness hissed.

Her mother never talked to her like that.

“Does it matter?” Zoya asked.

“Why, of all men you could’ve had, have you had your eye set on that bastard?”

She stayed silent.

“Alina is doing you a favor by making sure that you’ll have a better chance at the throne. It will do you no good to be given an offer that we can’t afford to refuse. ”

“So it’s in your plan to have Nikolai on the throne?”

“He’s clever and he has the support of his mother’s family more than Vasily does. He also has better luck with foreign alliances.”

“How would you know?”

“Did you even look? Have you bothered to do anything but sulk? His two bodyguards are not Ravkan.” The baroness shook her head. “He has the protection of trained Shu warriors, and that is more a prop than anything. He will do just fine with Ravkan guards but that is how we know he has the support of the Shu.”

“I think you’re right.” Zoya sighed. “I’m sorry for causing trouble.”

“I should’ve made it clear.” The baroness shook her head. “Of course you wouldn’t have looked.”

~~~

“How do you know?”

At least to her, Aleksandr seemed genuinely surprised, even if she could only read a hint of surprise in the way his eyes moved.

_Stay calm._ She sipped on the kvas, mentally remarking on her change of taste. The bitterness was oddly welcome and warming.

When she did not answer and instead handed him the sheet, he looked almost amused.

“I am aware that he has his methods.” Aleksandr took the piece of paper. “But I was not expecting to find out so soon.”

“All you have to know,” Alina narrowed her eyes, “is that I want him out of the succession likely more than you do.”

_Nazyalensky. That bastard. What had he done?_ None of it made sense. Where exactly did one find a seventeen year old who radiated the chill of death?

_Death is no stranger, Aleksandr._ She could tell him, but the most stupid decision ever would be to put her past out in the open.

“Very well.”

_Impressed, much?_

The element of surprise was on her side. _How long will I keep it?_

“I have said before. Ravka needs a queen who can do more than appearances.”

Against her will, she shuddered.

Those words were her undoing once.

No.

This time they won’t be.

But still, she did not know enough about her former enemy. It was laughable that she walked in with enough confidence but those words, the implication…it was not how she expected it.

“The girl who hides in your fort.” Alina stared into his eyes. “Yasha? Dunya? Yassa?”

“Dunyasha.”

“She’ll be more useful than you think. We all know what needs to be done.”

“Oh? So that’s all?” He leaned in closer.

“It would’ve come to this either way. It’s a matter of time, not if.” Alina sipped on her glass. “Unless of course you’d like me at your funeral.”

_How would she be so familiar of Vasily’s nature?_ Aleksandr studied, really studied, the girl sitting opposite to him.

Despite the softness of the angles in her face, her eyes were cold and emotions unfathomable. It was almost as if he were looking into his own eyes whenever he were forced to interact with Vasily. Someone like him, he supposed.

_I wonder who’s calm will break first._ Of course, it was an if. One could never tell if Aleksandr was lying or speaking truth or simply conveying an expression that he found to be appropriate for the matter at hand. It reflected nothing of what he actually thought or felt. Could he even feel? Alina supposed that if she dug a knife into his arm, he would probably feel pain, just like everyone else, but he wouldn’t scream or even flinch.

After all, she had done the duty of delivering messages to the front line – for Vasily. The last part was just another wound, reopened before it had the chance to even heal one bit.

It hurt. Vanya’s pain, her pain…they both had to pay for her blindness.

She should keep her eyes open.

“What do you propose we do next?” She asked. “What is it that will benefit you the most?”

“Nikolai should at least be occupied.”

Nikolai. She almost felt sorry for him. He reminded her of the fox, of one of Ana Kuya’s folktales. Would this be the trap to catch him?

In truth, she was still somewhat fond of him. He was soft, too soft for a prince, but charming with a quick wit and clever mind. His mercy was his undoing.

There was no way Vasily could’ve survived two brilliant minds plotting for his life, but in reality it was only one. Nikolai was satisfied with surrender and was too confident in his handling of threats. Aleksandr never took that risk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone got the Alex Rider reference I will be so happy. 
> 
> Thanks for all the patience <3


	9. Facing the throne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a follow up to the scheme Alina cooked up before to trap Zoya XD hope you guys remembered it :) 
> 
> As always, comments are very welcome! I live for them XD

Aleksandr held pride in Dunyasha’s abilities, but not her sanity or reputation.

But this time, he was happy.

It was unlike Aleksandr to send in someone who was displayed clearly fanatical traits and an unstable mind, and no matter the end result, Sturmhond would trace it to Vasily and his well-earned reputation of being an unworthy heir, and his inability to see through people. And, as it was known to all, his reckless ambition was on display with his every move. No one else would have been so blatant in their aim to bring down the other princes and so straightforward with their goals.

One could’ve asked for some land that profited a certain individual to be altered in way when they had knowledge of how the land brought in funds, and in not even ten years, those missing funds would make a substantial difference.

A bastard could wait. The crown prince never needed to.

In all fairness, that was only for someone who was supposed to have some degree of political sense. Compared to a soldier in the First Army, Vasily was cunning, scheming, and definitely more than capable politically, but to his brothers, he lacked a lot of the things that an heir should’ve possessed.

It could be blamed on the King for favoring him far too much and tolerating his exorbitant spending and his lack of time management, or they could’ve just turned around and demanded Nikolai or Aleksandr answer to the guilt for being a bastard.

Who would have even suspected Aleksandr to have some sort of true weapon in his men? After all, it was unlike Aleksandr’s quiet and docile nature. Everyone knew Baghra’s absolute need for control and that reflected itself far too well in her son. Why else would he have been the only bastard at court? Some pitied him, seeing his spirit as broken rather than polite.

There were plenty of bastards to go around but they made their ambitions clear as day.

The king would not tolerate it.

Vasily’s ambition made him desperate. Sturmhond would see that in Dunyasha.

“What did she say?” Aleksandr’s voice was cool and smooth as glass.

A mark of danger.

“She’s drunk again. And her knives are stained.”

“You can tell me that she hired herself out again.”

“I don’t understand your association with her.” Ivan muttered. “She’s mad. Completely mad. She rambles of saints and sinners.”

“Madness against madness, Ivan.” Aleksandr smiled. “I’m glad to hear you’ll look out for me. She will not breathe a word of us.”

~~~

Yellow flowers.

Twelve.

Alina counted.

“Trouble certainly follows me.” Alina remarked dryly.

“Should I pull them out for you?” Ruby asked.

“Leave them be.” Alina smiled. “They are not for my funeral.” _And yellow is a likeable color._

Someone knocked on her door.

“Come in.”

“The baroness asked to see you.” A servant Alina didn’t recognize bowed.

“Where should I go?”

“Follow me.”

The first thing she noticed was the prescence of the Baron. The baroness wore a strained smile that desperately tugged at the corners of her eyes.

“The king would like to see you.”

_Still upset it isn’t Zoya? You’d better be glad._ Too many people glossed over the King’s lecherous nature too, only one of his various shortcomings.

“What does he want with me?”

“He wants to meet the girl who wrote this pamphlet.” It was her pamphlet that the baron handed to her, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I knew I wasn’t wrong in bringing you home.”

All lies. Lies that she could indulge in though.

“I’ll have to give my gratitude in person.”

Even if she was not willing, the Baroness had a job to do.

“I probably have a suitable outfit somewhere.”

_I can see that your smile is soured,_ she wanted to say.

How hard could it be to be upfront with your dislikes?

In the end, a light cotton kefta of midnight blue was altered down to fit her frame, modest and unassuming.

_I have never been more glad to be plain._

The current tsar…Tsar Alexander III, the epitome of a pervert who held too much power. Someone in the Nazyalensky family had no need to worry, but the way he would look at women or even girls was something that always unsettled her to the core. No one could help but compare her clear plainness to Zoya’s lack thereof, but that had given her an edge. In the past, he never noticed her while she stood next to Zoya and that was a blessing when she had any need to go about the palace.

Things were already going to be different.

Could she survive being in the open, the center of attention, the gossip over tea?

_Hell knows how I’m not dead and gone and forgotten. This life probably isn’t mine to keep. A chance to do what I couldn’t, I suppose._

The thought was replaced with something else. _Am I some sort of demon from hell coming back for my revenge on the living?_ It wasn’t like her hands were clean. Under any prince, every move resulted in death, whether at her hand or someone else’s, whether known or forgotten.

_Who will I be this time?_

For now, she would have to be content with silence.

“Don’t interrupt his majesty.” The baron fidgeted in his seat opposite to her in the carriage. “Only speak when spoken to. He’ll tolerate badly executed curtsies as he is aware of your background. Just apologize in an elaborate manner and bow low.”

Alina nodded at every word.

The servants hurried them into the throne room.

The king was clearly excited to see her. He looked…healthier than she recalled.

As far as she was aware, in her past life he had been poisoned on many fronts and her last impression of him was that of a withering old man, despite not being beyond his fifties. Plenty of people wanted their choice of king on the throne while the prince in question was still in favor.

“Bring her to me!” He exclaimed, but when she stepped up close, he frowned. “She is very plain.”

“Your majesty, I cannot expect that she’ll grow up estranged without facing hardship.” The baron answered, sparing Alina the embarrassment of having to explain herself for something that was not even a fault.

_Still as shallow as usual._

“Let her talk.”

“Your majesty, I will like to explain the reasons why my sister, of her extraordinary intelligence, saints bless her, didn’t fully alleviate the situation in Tsibeya.”

“Go on.”

“I did hear her announce it firsthand, so I believe I have a good understanding of the intention behind every part of the plan, but she neglected many things. Your majesty, before I say any more, I ask for you to pardon me if my words are not what you’d expect, shocking or in any way vulgar.”

“Of course.” _He’s already bored. Who blames him? He wants a show and I’ll put on a show._

“The records would ensure that no one will be missed,” Alina began, “but also that any slight could be avenged. Who would dare utter a word after that? It’s easy to figure out people’s ties and use it as a method of control. It’s a situation that breeds unrest. That is even without considering the amount of grain that is being handed down by each level.”

“Are you implying that greed and pettiness run in the officials?”

“I don’t mean to imply it that way. It’s a matter of human nature and conscience.”

“Go on.”

“The officials have the power to limit grain first and foremost. No one has the weapons to oppose them. Making an imperial order to have the rich donate or sell grain at a lower price also breeds discontent with every single class. The rich will have a different type of power because they can promise material goods that the officials will not provide as well as prestige and with no effort they can incite riots as a means of protesting without their direct involvement. This and what I have spoken of previously previously ties into the greedy and selfish image that the peasants have surely crafted in their minds, and although they may resent the rich, at this point they will resent those who hinder their survival. The rich also have access to weapons, perhaps not similar to the army’s, but equally effective with the spread of unrest. Tsibeyan soldiers do not guard the inner regions. Controlling Fjerda is their duty, your majesty.”

_If I die, it will be here today._

The baron was already sweating. _You said too much,_ he wanted to say.

“Explain. Continue.”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Soup kitchens.” Alina mused. “Ones that are related to their prestige and position can’t limit greed at all. I recall the registration. They might’ve been overpowered by the riots at times, but they have their ways of settling things with a carrot and stick choice when they need to. It may shock you to hear that the soup kitchens hardly had grain. It were bark that they stewed in the pots and rocks.”

“Why should I believe you? None of my informants have been able to retrieve anything.”

“They came under the mission ordered by the people in power, your majesty.” Alina responded. “The officials they associate with greed and a lack of heart are also the people who are ordered to govern by the people in power. There is no difference in their minds. We had sent in people too but similar results came up until we had people dress as rioters and experience the treatment of those who live in Tsibeya.”

The king nodded, almost as if he were defeated.

“Finally, the tax cut, your majesty, had only been applied after word was received in Tsibeya. They still received the taxes for the past year, your majesty. The order was too late.”

“The original ideas, they had come from your sister, no?”

“Yes, your majesty.” Alina replied. “Zoya’s ideas are excellent and they should have worked, but in practice they will always run into problems. I had a unique upbringing as you are aware, and have been in the company of the peasantry of Ravka for the majority of my life.”

“Have you known of the issues?”

“Your majesty, I cannot predict the future. I can only talk of things as they happen.”

“What do you propose to happen?”

“I believe it is a time for change, your majesty. The peasantry need a voice, no matter how small.”

“Send order for the arrest of any official found guilty of corruption.” He announced, “have them delivered to Os Alta and anyone who attempts to foil this will be met with the death penalty. Any single official who have caused extensive damage to their output will be executed.”

“That will be quite a few in Tsibeya, your majesty.” Alina said. “The area still needs governance as it is on an unstable border.”

“The management will be your father’s responsibility. I believe that your practical intelligence is shared by him.”

Power. More of it. All thanks to her. She will never be their shameful bastard daughter again.

“For Alina Nazyalenskya’s contributions, I should reward her. Inform her majesty the Queen to prepare something more suitable for a young lady.”

A woman, no girl, slid out of the shadows to take her.

Genya Safina.

Alina recognized her, still a girl of similar age to herself.

If she were deserving of it, she’d rather save her. Genya never deserved any sort of horrible fate that could have befallen her when she had disappeared in her past life. _That feels so long ago. Disappearance is hardly a good thing._

“Follow me.” Still as stunning as she was.

In the past, she couldn’t recognize a look of sadness other than her own.

Genya’s fiery hair, crafted face, and proportionate build were her greatest strengths and her ultimate downfall. After all, her father was too low ranking to protect her in any way.

~~~

“All of this? For her?” Zoya demanded.

“Yes. Now wipe that look off your face.” The baroness ordered. “It’s very unbecoming of you to lose your composure so easily.”

Zoya continued to gape at the jewels.

“What did I say?” The baroness snapped. “That will be the last time she ever gets any of this. I am almost sorry that I even spent any effort on you because for all of your beauty, you really have no tact or patience!”

“Shouldn’t it…have been mine?” Zoya muttered.

_Mother is hardly so angry at me._

“Just wait.” Her mother shook her head. “Why do you think I spend so much time on you? So much money and effort for your upbringing? You have the potential but not the practical aspect! You need to learn, and I hope you’ve learnt your lesson!”

“Yes, mother.”

_It’s useless to argue._

Did her mother really care about her, or just what she could be?

_It’s not like this is her family._ But Sabina Nazyalenskaya the ambitious, of course, almost lived through Zoya’s successes.

“Mother?” Nadia poked her head through the door. “I know you’re mad at Zoya…but maybe you should help her first.”

“Go back to what you’re doing. Focus, girl.”

_Mother isn’t in a good mood. Not at all._

“Right now, I want you to stop thinking about the prince Aleksandr too.” Her mother was never so direct.

The killing blow.

“Why?”

“Do you want to die?” She hissed. “Do you realize that if you choose wrong, you will die on the gallows? I will not see you die on the gallows. I will not have your heart to blame for our family’s misfortune.”

_So I am a pawn._

_Tell me, mother, do you truly care for me?_

Where was the line between use and care?

“Yes, mother.”

Because, what else was there for her to say?

_She wants the best for me, I guess._ But that night, Zoya still cried in her pillow.

She was not used to defeat.

Or her mother’s harshness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo Aleksandr is a scheming bastard (in many ways)
> 
> I see Genya, beautiful Genya, Genya Safina. 
> 
> I was not very into KoS, but I did borrow a few elements here and there~ hope you guys enjoyed this!
> 
> I have not read CK or SoC in a long time, so Dunyasha being ax-crazy might not be 100% on point, but she is crazy either way. 
> 
> Waiting for more imperial Russia worldbuilding! The flowers were a reference to how you don't give even numbers of flowers in Russia, and yellow flowers are associated with separation. I wonder who got that XD I did a lot of research for this one and I hope it's going to be clearer with the following chapters since I haven't focused on worldbuilding during these initial chapters...it's always been more of an attempt to establish character relationships as they've been heavily adapted to fit both my take on a Chinese "宫斗剧" or court drama and my favorite book series ever. 
> 
> For the people who comment, I love you guys way too much. 
> 
> I have some time lately so I will try and write more before school starts again in August. 
> 
> Constructive criticism always welcome!


	10. Differences in pride

Alina’s expressions of joy were in her silent musings. If it wasn’t something that was announced, one could easily overlook the new jewelry or tailored clothing.

_Victory is a fact, not news. It won’t serve me well to rub it in anyone’s face._

Too much notice was a way to paint a target on her back. Jealousy and malice was something she’d like a minimum of. Zoya was already enough for her deal with.

The baron thought differently. He wanted, no needed, to display that he indeed had many successes, not just in the field of politics, but also in his family. It wasn’t always necessary – after all, too much attention was more harmful than too little.

Just some occasions were necessary to remind others of their existence. There was a balance between holding power and a conscious need to hold power. Making power a fact was no easy feat, but the Baron had pretty much succeeded in making his power an accepted truth that went more or less unquestioned.

_Clever._

Even if it was a banquet in her name, no one hardly noticed her. The talk was of the food, first – a simple ukha, pirozhki filled with vegetables, roast game, rye, finished with simple blini served with honey and berries. Not exceptionally elaborate. They had plenty to compare to. Elaborate dinner parties with exotic ingredients prepared by foreign chefs always seemed to be a common topic.

But the taste…exceptional.

The baron still maintained his image of humbleness in the end, eating and serving food that were not much more elaborate than a peasant’s feast on a banquet.

All façade.

The ingredients themselves were not easy to obtain. Who could guess that the fish of the exact kind and age were rare, that the spices used for the game cost more than what many would see in a lifetime, and that the serving platter was an antique, worth more than the spices in the bird?

People chose to believe what they wanted.

And in the ensuing mingling, it was mostly Zoya who caught the attention of young noblemen and their sisters in the form of both admiration and jealousy.

There was no doubt that she was one of most beautiful women in Os Alta, maybe even the entire nation of Ravka.

_Zoya should be happy that Genya is not here._

Even if the party was held in her name, she was hardly ever the subject of conversation. Perhaps that was helped by her decision to retreat into the far side of the garden where no one could disturb her.

Or so she thought.

It seemed that the further she wanted to stay from a certain someone, the more he was curious.

“Alina,” Vasily’s voice, once welcome, was a painful sound.

_I won’t respond._

“I wonder, what is it that goes on in your mind?” He continued. “It was pleasantly surprising to hear of your ideas.”

It hurt, but at the same time, she wanted to lash out.

_Aren’t you the same person who killed my Vanya? Aren’t you the one who put me in that prison? Wasn’t it you who let them torture me? But isn’t this all in the future, and a future that I won’t let happen?_

She could feel the wind blowing through the cell, chilling her to the bone. Her legs were welcomingly numb, but she still could not sleep.

“I’m not much else but concerned.”

“Why are you not at the gathering?”

“If I take Zoya’s limelight, you’ll all blame me.” Alina dug her nails into her palms. “She’s the one you want, am I right?”

Vasily didn’t answer.

“She’s the useful one. Don’t waste your time. I’ll tell you this.”

_He’s seeing opportunity again._

_“_ You are a smart girl, Alina. _”_

“I thank you for that, but I must leave.” Her voice went cold. Ruby followed her as she walked briskly back into the pavilion where most of the guests were stood or sat.

_It’s not a compliment when all I am is a tool to be used then disposed of with no quick death. And there is a massive price to disposition. I don’t want to know who else was also bled out in my court._

After experiencing firsthand what Vasily could manage, all she wanted was to run. And she had legs to run this time.

A tall figure caught her eye.

Aleksandr?

What was he doing there?

_Vasily drags him around all the time because they’re still allied at this point,_ she reminded herself.

Plus, Vasily needed to feel good about himself. It was a matter of pride.

_It must feel good to have a prince in your intourage, right?_ Aleksandr had seen her and was walking over, dressed not in the royal Lantsov blue but rather in gray, a similar shade to his own guard.

_It’s a pity that I sided with the wrong person before._

Ravka needed a king who didn’t put themselves too far above their subjects.

“For you, Alina.”

A small bouquet of blue daffodils was handed to her.

_Daffodils. They’re blue? You trust me to always make the sun shine?_

That was far better than the roses Vasily used to bring her. Trust was better than false love.

“Thank you.” She brought them up to her nose. “Ruby, can you please find a vase for these?”

_Maybe it is another false declaration of love._ A lifetime of being enemies might’ve not resulted in enough information on Aleksandr, but he hardly displayed any signs of emotion and always ensured that the result was optimal for him.

She understood though. Her only ties to him were their mutual need to bring down Vasily and his residence in the capital. He had a weapon that Vasily didn’t – good looks, charm, and attention to detail.

_Play along, Alina, play along._

_If it wasn’t for his status and lack of power…I doubt I could’ve won against him._

“I’ll tell you one thing.” She whispered. “Never let the people forget that you are hardly Royal. And never forget the difference between you and your brothers.”

_He already has a better reputation to build on. No debauchery, no damaging rumors or speculation. His mother was neither noble nor rich – and he should put it to good use._

_Listen to me, will you?_

He seemed to understand. “You certainly look out for me, but you seldom look out for yourself.”

“What do I have to be worried about?” Alina laughed.

“The king is a child.” His face darkened. “It won’t serve you to be so direct.”

_No fatherly affection I see. Tsk tsk, the namesake didn’t treat the son well._ It was no surprise with the tsarina’s jealous nature and ever-changing mood as well as constant need for attention. Another son brought way more attention than she could, after all, and her husband was not bothered at all to console her – or mind the child.

In that way, Vasily resembled his father at times. Overly focused on trivial matters. 

_I wish I could say that I know how to handle children._

Vanya.

A new realization dawned on her. Aleksandr did resemble Vanya ever so slightly in how his face was shaped. Well, both of them had Lantsov blood.

Maybe that was how she picked her allies.

Stupidity. Utter stupidity.

_Don’t change your expression._

“It’s for Ravka.” She smiled, and reminded herself to play a slightly infatuated young girl. She was still in her teenage self’s body, still expected to behave in a somewhat childish manner, and perhaps she could still remember what it felt like to be a child.

It felt…strange to say at the least. One part of her longed to be truly, simply happy but the other part of her wanted vengeance, to quell the wounds of betrayal. Knowing and feeling had robbed her of far too much, started by the constant gnawing to any joy or satisfaction. There was always something else that she needed to do, something that was right or wrong to feel, and there was no respite. A dreamless night was a miracle – anything other than reliving her own nightmarish past life was welcome. 

A child did not have such worries.

It felt strange to Alina to be the subject of interest and particularly unwelcome when it was someone who clearly had the context to figure out more.

No one needed to know about her true motives. It wasn’t necessary to talk of her fall from grace even if it never existed in the life she lived in now.

“What’s so interesting?”

“I can’t tell if you’re happy or disappointed.” He admitted.

She could admit to herself that he looked even better in the low light. _My old self would’ve been swooning. And he knows what he is doing, after all._

Another weapon that she could have against Vasily. Things were coming together, weren’t they?

“Both. I’m conflicted.”

Aleksandr didn’t say anything. He stepped closer, his head tilted to the left ever so slightly.

“Do you always smile like this?” His voice was a lot softer.

“I’m not a particular fan of smiles.” _How many wounds will be opened tonight?_

Vasily’s. Zoya’s. The baroness. The smiles that landed her in her own personal hell, in her recurring nightmares.

_We all know we’re just playing along with each other, Aleksandr. Two can play this game._

Aleksandr knew his influence, after all. He didn’t have the strengths in background, so whatever he had, he would work with and work at until it met his needs.

One needed to know their enemies. He didn’t have the army, but he had his mercenaries, excellent fighters and loyal to death. No one noticed him as much as the other two, and thus he made sure to do business in ways that brought the most profit, hiding it until it was truly needed. Excess was not something that he indulged in. Nikolai may have been equally good looking and perhaps even more charming, but he didn’t possess the same kind of allure that Aleksandr exploited when necessary.

A formidable enemy. A nearly flawless ally.

In the corner of her eye, she saw the baroness’ approving glance. Behind her was Zoya, clearly unhappy despite the attention that she was receiving. It did not help that Vasily was still bent on impressing the baroness and Alina guessed that Zoya was most likely afraid. Afraid that her husband would end up being Vasily. Afraid that for advantage, her mother would’ve sold her off to someone she did not like.

Would she have given it all up to be next to the person she truly liked? Perhaps that was her curse. Zoya was expected to marry for advantages and not for love, but she was still human. To the baroness, she was too beautiful to waste, too talented to throw away, too important to ignore. Marie and Nadia could get away with stupidity and naivety, but they would never know what it felt like to have a mother who was present.

_Neither would I. Ana Kuya was the closest thing to a mother I’d ever have._

”It’s funny…“ she began. “I wonder where your ambition came from. The same as your hair and eyes, perhaps?” At her final sentence, she could see that his face visibly darkened.

“I would wonder the same for you.” He laughed a little, but it almost pained him to do so. Probably undetectable, but Alina had only stayed breathing for her abilities to read others.

_I know what you’d want to say. That a simple girl like me wouldn’t have more to ask than a life of peace and comfort. I won’t be the one to tell you what you got wrong._

_As I guessed. Baghra, of course. The bad mood is a tell-all, Aleksandr._

He was still young after all. No matter how polished his acting skills were, he had no chance against someone who had survived a lifetime in palace plots – only to be betrayed by her only ally.

He didn’t need to know about either part.

It was well known that he didn’t exactly get along with his mother. A high degree of similarity would tend to produce animosity, and the old woman’s controlling nature definitely did not support his ambition in any way.

Was it her control or her words that had made him the prince stood before her this day?

She wondered what had more influence. It was probably different for every person, but it was worth looking over. _It might be of use._

So that was what everything was to her in the end? Use, or not.

Was she the person she hated?

_I give something back, after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More cultural stuff! It's very common to see people giving flowers because it's for every occasion, after, in Russia. Blue signifies trust and is a color that can be given to young women/girls, and the daffodils actually mean "the sun is always shining with you", very fitting for the sun summoner. I didn't put them as yellow because in Russia that can often be mistaken as a request for separation and there are superstitions surrounding it (that you would quarrel if presented with yellow flowers - which considering the meaning, is likely). 
> 
> Alarkling is what I live for, but I think it's something I wrote that directly corresponds to Shadow and Bone - the Darkling definitely uses his looks/charm to his advantage to get Alina on board - until Baghra decides that he's being horrid. 
> 
> It's up to all of us to figure out how much pretense and true emotion anyone feels at any point. 
> 
> I feel bad for Zoya sometimes because she's stuck in a mold that her mom put her in and she's not allowed to be anything but the perfect daughter.
> 
> As always, I live for comments ~ quarantine and limited mobility is killing me on the inside. Being my socially awkward self, these comments are some of the only human contact I get aside from occasional chatting with friends. 
> 
> Botkin/Baghra/Genya/Nikolai will be arriving in some time ~


	11. Results never sought

”You say that Sturmhond has caused disturbance to Vasily’s businesses?”

“I don’t know what happened.” Ivan sighed. “I will have Dunyasha confirm this, but it’s almost certain that he is not attacking Nikolai, but Vasily.”

“It may be that Nikolai has his supporters too.” Aleksandr mused. “But that means,”

_That bastard._

“He’ll be trying to screw Vasily over.” Ivan’s bluntness was welcome in a way even if he needed a word in about how he acted in front of others. _He doesn’t see the need to hide._

Trust was good. _You can only trust someone when they trust you._ Or it was Ivan’s lack of political experience.

What mattered was that he was capable and willing.

Aleksandr nodded. “Now, it’s our turn to comfort Vasily, isn’t it? Send a message to Vasily. Tell him that I have heard of the sabotage to his businesses. Prepare my coach. He will not refuse.”

It bothered him that Nikolai was already commanding such power, but that would have to be dealt with at another time. It seemed that the alliance could have been hurting him too, as the king would no doubt try to favor the son who had no support, or seemingly none.

_That fox._

To no one’s surprise, Vasily sent a messenger, out of breath and speaking in rushed tones, asking for them to hurry.

“I heard about what happened.”

Vasily laughed bitterly. “My father won’t bother doing anything, if that’s what you’ll say.”

“He doesn’t treat you right.”

_He treats us fairly for him, surprisingly. It’s just that he doesn’t care. Some cards are just dealt that way._

_But you’re a prince, aren’t you? Aren’t you the crown prince?_

“Make him treat you right, then.” Vasily was…upset to say at the very least. “Do something. Make sure that you aren’t just a prop. I know that we should not be too often present, but you need to look good, at least. Look involved.”

_He will fail._

“I don’t have any good ideas.” Vasily downed a glass of kvas. “I don’t know what I should do.” Another glass. “I can’t win against Nikolai without you. Even if there’s Baghra, you still have a mind sometimes.”

_Good. What’s on the mind of the sober…_

_I wonder if Alina ever gets drunk._

Everyone had their secrets and Alina no doubt had hers. As far as he was aware, it wasn’t typical of an orphan to have a mind as quick as hers.

Or political understanding.

“I think you should rest.” _And miss Nikolai’s celebrations. The return of a second prince when there are only three…is no small thing._ “I will stay here and make sure that you are alright. Ivan, you may go.”

Ivan bowed before he left.

Soon enough, a messenger came to invite the Crown Prince.

The messenger left with the bastard prince.

The tsarista, he observed, seemed to enjoy the company of her second son the most. Vasily, with his obsessions of all the wrong things, wasn’t exactly his mother’s favorite, and very few could love a child borne of betrayal. Nikolai could coax her with sweet words and when she looked at him, she could see herself in his features – all blonde hair and classically beautiful features. Vasily was unfortunate enough to take more after his father, it seemed, only that the resemblance didn’t grant him any more attention.

_Was that how he ended up with Baghra once?_ There were plenty of comments on how he was a spitting image of her younger self, ones like the words of how she resembled her father. It was said that her beauty far exceeded that of any other, and he supposed that he could see it, but all those years of glaring down, later up, at him really took their toll. If his earlier memories were intact, perhaps he could find himself either agreeing or disagreeing, but those were not something that was available to him. The camera had not reached Ravka soon enough.

A lesson to take to heart, he supposed, but it might have been more suited to the tsarista, now frowning directly at him.

He had a bad habit of disappointing old women, he supposed, even if objectively they were not as old as the word implied. It was more of the manner than actual appearance. Part of hiding…was being the perfect disappointment. Not without success, but lackluster in critical areas, especially with the perfect peers for a more stark comparison.

Let them be the successful princes. That wasn’t what he needed.

He needed to be the perfect king. There was a difference – it meant deference when one needed to, loyalty and lack of personal interest – at least, to whoever had held the throne before him. The perfect king also removed his opposition.

It was easy to find Alina. All he had to do was to find the person who wasn’t decked in jewels or something shimmery, and she most likely sought him out too.

“How are you not fat?” She took a bite of some appetizer that was laid out. “I would imagine…that being surrounded by temptation all day would be exhausting.” Beneath her apparently relaxed demeanor, he could tell from the way her hands were tensed that she was still on guard.

“Botkin, and that may be the most genuine thing you’ve said to me so far.”

He laughed, and she was surprised to find that the sound was quite pleasant. It was quite unsettling…something about how calm he usually acted told her it wasn’t necessarily the best sign.

“I’m still surprised how happy you are. The palace is a miserable place, isn’t it?” _I would know. Especially in winter._

Memories weren’t something so easily erased, and she was not sure entirely that she wanted it to be so. Pain was simply a mental scar.

Scars were warnings.

“Look at my brothers. We are all sick of this show.”

“I’m surprised that you even bother being genuine. Is it exhausting like this, wearing a mask every day?” Alina took another one. “Once in a lifetime chance, my friend.” _Of course not. I’d have eaten countless pastries. I could’ve eaten them until I was sick._

“You would know.”

“Oh, I wish I could share your pain.” Alina’s eyes were hardly sad.

Was she smiling or not, or was she simply mocking his need to hide? Having an ally whom you could not figure out wasn’t the best idea, but it seemed that as long as they shared the same enemy, she would not falter. _Vasily better live for long enough._

“I wonder if I should still stay, seeing that my sister is staring at us, and she is rather disappointed tonight.” Alina took a sip from a champagne glass.

“So is it your mother or is it her?”

“Both.”

“I can guess.”

“You are likely right.”

“I don’t know if I should remain here and spite her or leave and let the Queen spite you.”

So she had seen.

He shouldn’t have been surprised at her attention to detail, but it was still surprising to hear, coming from her mouth. Ivan being straightforward he could deal with, but her lack of tact this time was concerning.

Or it could be that his plans were working exactly as they should.

Aleksandr allowed the corners of his mouth to tilt upwards. “The power’s in your hands, Alina.” So she was capable of feeling something after all. It wasn’t something he’d usually say and she likely did not expect him to reply in such a manner.

“I’ll have the best of both worlds, thank you very much.” She wondered how the queen could possibly be so spited, seeing that he wasn’t as hard on her eyes as a certain person…or perhaps that was the reason.

“Where is Vasily?”

“Drunk.”

“Why not dead?”

“I thought you might want to kill him.” _And wanting makes us weak, Alina._

“There’s something that you aren’t telling me.”

Aleksandr went silent.

“What you say of me, is what I can say of you.”

“You wouldn’t believe me either.”

Intuition said that she was telling the truth, but what exactly was it that she’d make such a statement?

“If I ask you why you are being direct tonight, would you answer me?”

“I heard that Vasily’s businesses have been sabotaged. The first answer I had was you, but it does not make any sense whatsoever that you’d be the one to sabotage your relationship. It’s more likely that you did something indirectly, and that it was never your intention if it has anything to do with you at all.”

A young girl shouldn’t have such an unreadable gaze. He refused to believe that this was her true self looking at him, waiting for an answer, but somehow...he knew that this was indeed who he picked as an ally. 

“It was partially my fault. I would say that I am impressed by your guessing.”

“They’re serving plum cake.” She smiled, almost as if the sun had suddenly come out beneath the clouds. “Botkin should take care of it.”

_At least Vasily didn’t ruin that for me. He hated the hothouse plums._

To walk on her own two legs towards something served for her…felt like a luxury now.

Anything that wasn’t the cell and endless torture and the endless wait for death…was a luxury. She had always known that she was headed for death, but soon came to realize that it wasn’t death that scared her, but the uncertainty.

The uncertainty of when and how she was going to die, and the moments waiting for the poison to take over, wondering where it would hit first or how it would numb her frightened her more. There was no clock to mark the time, but it felt like an eternity, feeling her limbs grow cold one by one, the twisting, sharp pains in her abdomen, and finally the black dots in her vision.

Aleksandr pulled her to one side. “Are you alright?”

_All lies. Lies upon lies and lies_.

She nodded and resisted the urge to check for the presence of intact lower limbs.

For a moment, it hurt to wonder if she was always fated to suffer.

Some names she knew, and the lord in front of her…she recalled that his name was Aleksandr, too.

Ravkan legend said that if one made a silent wish between two people of the same name, the wish would come true.

Alina closed her eyes in a prayer.

_Saints, don’t make me suffer any more._

~~~

Much to Zoya’s chagrin, the baroness pushed Alina towards the direction of Prince Aleksandr, telling her to behave, how to behave, what to say, all in hushed tones.

She wasn’t meant to hear it. She wasn’t meant to know.

_Why her? Or rather, why is he a bastard?_

She’d been instructed to just shut up and watch. _It isn’t clear who the tsar favors, but it’s not Aleksandr, Zoya._

Zoya was sure that if the tsarista died, her mother would be the first one to sell her daughter to the tsar. What did she get out of it? A cheating shell of an old pig who slobbered and barely managed to keep his eyelids open. It seemed impossible that he was only in his forties. If forty looked like that…Zoya would not have wanted to live past fifty.

_What good is beauty when it gets you nothing but trouble?_

Perhaps it wasn’t right to hate Alina, but she found herself doing it anyway. What was so good about that girl? Her face was plain and she was barely noble. She wasn’t even sure if they were actually related. No fashion sense, no elegant manner, and certainly no beauty…what was it that Aleksandr found himself seeking?

Even she laughed at the prospect of Alina’s intelligence. If it was Nikolai, she would have been inclined to believe it, but Aleksandr? If she really had any more left, he would’ve offered her smarts up to Vasily…

She wished that he wasn’t such a person. He had everything that should’ve pleased her mother…but he never bothered using it. Vasily be damned, Aleksandr was the one who had the calm to be a leader.

Why did Alina get all that Zoya ever wanted? Love, security, wealth…what was it that she didn’t have?

Even Marie, with all her lack of tact and vapidness, was now standing next to Sergei, giggling while the conversation flowed.

_Sabina is a burden._

Zoya was horrified at the thought.

“Why are you looking so sad?” the baroness frowned. “You’ll have everything that you’d ever want. Just wait.”

She would be lying if she had said the prospect of immeasurable power didn’t tempt her at all. It did, just like many other things.

_That path shouldn’t be too bad,_ she reasoned.

It was easier just not to fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There comes my return from playing the smart Asian kid (aka getting pummeled in debate all the damn time and stuttering). Time to actually start working on things (i.e. math and revision for next year) and finishing some other projects lying around. My time management is horrible. The classes were enjoyable but took up a lot of time and I spent a lot of time outside of home too, so I didn't have my laptop. 
> 
> As a sort of consolation, I'm working on some Grisha art. I'll try and have something tangible next time, but I've never been more tempted to burn something in my entire life. I wish that if I sat between two people of the same name and made a wish, it would come true. There are so many people with my name in real life XD
> 
> What would you wish for?


	12. Truths made easier

It didn’t matter that Genya knew all the palace shortcuts.

She was content taking longer, delaying the time she had to spend with the Queen, or reducing any chance she had of seeing the crown prince, who also took shortcuts. A lot of them.

If things were to play out as they should…she would never be free. Another Lantsov of the same caliber and short-sightedness. Another one who likely had more energy, and therefore more likely to corner her. It was easy, terrifying logic.

It would be risky business involving herself in any sort of alliance, but what was worse? A quick death or something that killed on slowly, first on the inside, before it started to kill her on the outside? That was what she felt every single day. Sheer terror and disgust were enough to kill her, day by day.

_If he were to do this to me, best I serve him his sentence too. We’re all vipers in this pit._

Poisons weren’t anything that they would expect her to touch or expect her to know.

_Be glad that David doesn’t speak much._

Some things just didn’t work on him. Beauty, help, kindness…she was sure she had tried every method invented just to have him look at her like he always did.

When had things gone so wrong? Her father needed connections. The queen needed a lady in waiting. It was perfect, even if said lady in question was a child.

They used to praise her for being a fast learner. The queen had treated her well once, almost like another daughter, even if she were only slightly better than a servant – better quarters, more close contact, prettier dresses, but that was all.

Evgenia Safina, daughter of General Safin, wasn’t supposed to be a beauty. She was supposed to be pretty, a pleasant sight, some sort of decoration, not someone’s muse.

_Neither of my parents are really much to look at._ It was true, even if she didn’t want to talk any ill of them, but some combination of their features ended up being hers. People could see it – the way her upper lip was shaped, the way her hair burned bright and the way her bones were sculpted to curve – but it never made much sense.

If she could reverse her parents’ decision, she would. Let them stay unnoticed as they were, but let her have a life to call hers.

She’d seen how Vasily had glanced at her before making an inquiry towards his mother, too far away to let her hear, but the look was chilling all the same. What kept her awake that night was the resemblance – the chin, the lip, it was all too familiar – and despite the warmth of her covers, she had shuddered.

At least she were alone that night, huddled under the blanket, praying that she went unnoticed and that she would wake up somewhere else. It was childish to think that way, and she knew, with plenty of resentment, that she was no child, and would never be allowed to be one again. She could play pretend when she stood with David in his library and workroom, but those were games that were bound to end.

Perhaps her only relief was the girl’s plainness. The Nazylensky bastard…the name came to her only with time. Alina. Alina Nazyalenskaya. Being subject to notice, her plainness was a blessing. It meant that should the baron lose any power, it would still protect her from the man meant to serve and protect Ravka’s subjects.

Meant to.

What actually happened, to her at least, was always far off.

At least…at least her status was mostly a secret. The other servants pitied her. The queen hated any mention of her husband’s infidelities. The nobility didn’t see any point in criticizing their king when they were not much better off.

She wondered what they would call her.

Whore? Harlot? It still stung the same to know that with her lack of choice, there still existed plenty of people who were willing to hurt her for things beyond her control.

One day…one day she’d have the power to do something, but who else was there to turn to?

The girl Genya did not matter in the grand scheme of things. What always mattered...was which powerful man succeeded.

She was no politician, but she could learn.

Vasily’s succession was almost guaranteed, but she wasn’t sure if the other two would just sit and watch the show. She supposed it was funny that the eldest was the least capable, but he was the eldest and therefore had rights that no one else had.

Another thing beyond anyone’s control, of course.

Speaking of things beyond her control…she could hear the queen muttering under breath in her head, and even if beauty was otherwise a good thing, in that moment it was a curse.

The tsarina was beautiful, but time treated her just as anyone else. It wasn’t something royals could escape either – the grip of time on their faces, the fine lines and dullness that only became more prominent as one aged. She could hide all she wanted beneath layers of powder and stave off the wrinkles with baths and strange ointments, but in the end it couldn’t win against nature.

Genya was a reminder of all that she had lost, and it was not time or herself she resented, but the girl who had the audacity to be young and beautiful at the same time. She always wanted to laugh…because none of it had done her any good. At least, it only bought resentment and advances that she could not refuse, advances that made her want to scrub herself raw or throw herself in some well in pursuit of some sort of inner peace.

Whatever that was, Genya wouldn’t know.

~~~

_Fires burn brightest in the dark._

Something told Baghra that this was certainly some revelation to be pondered, but she didn’t need it. Not when her son was due to come any moment.

_He is disobedient and he needs to know it._ She repeated it over and over until she made sure that she would not forget a thing.

It was like when her father drilled into her war theory. Only now, it wasn’t even any war. Calling what she had to do to herself war…was a bit of an overstatement. It was just more of a rebellion that she had to quell.

“Good morning, madraya.”

She was pleased to hear that he was quite cold with his tone. Any emotion, any hint of humanity was enough to get someone killed, and that was not an outcome that she would ever permit herself into instigate. Seeing how oddly like her he was should have been enough to send her younger self into some sort of mother’s smile, but he didn’t need it.

If he softened, he would die, and she would be to blame. There would be no one else to blame anyways. Not since her wretch of a father disappeared along with his spoiling of Aleksandr. Maybe she hated the thought that he had something she never had from her own father no less, but she hated the thought of him in a coffin before her, burying the young before the old.

“I see you still act like an idiot.” Her voice was raspy from a lack of use.

“She is still useful.”

“I say you are less of an idiot.”

His visits were not pleasant, and they should never have been. There was a time where she had let herself soften too, but with the Tsar’s health in steady decline and Nikolai’s new strengths, she had no choice.

_Still angry?_

He was not learning.

At least, her harshness was enough to drive him away most of the time. What was he seeking when he came back? Some sort of impressed look from her? Some sort of love? Some sort of satisfaction?

He needed to find that for himself.

“Sasha, look at me and tell me that you can get the throne.” She laughed bitterly. “Look at me, I said.”

“I’d tell you the truth because you won’t benefit from seeing me dead.” He stared down at her, “I don’t have to do what you’d want me to do.”

“Ha, you can do nothing but run.” Baghra laughed again before taking a sip from her flask. “Your only option ever, was to run, and look at you.”

Aleksandr didn’t say anything. He simply left without turning back.

“Madraya, I will arrange to have someone take care of you, seeing as you are clearly out of your mind.”

_Learning fast, I see. Even your insults sound like mine._

Progress was progress. It wasn’t even ten minutes that he could bear to stay.

She knew him well enough as a mother. The more she pushed him to run, the more he felt the need, whether consciously or subconsciously, to fight it. He never needed many ideas to begin dreaming of his throne, of a haven, and she might’ve crushed them, but in the end, she knew that what she did would only make them stronger.

Now, he’d hopefully have the fight and grit to last until the end. It would be better if he’d not visit at all, save to rummage through her library. The less attachment he had, the better his chances were.

It was bad that they couldn’t be in the same room without insulting one another, but if he softened, she wouldn’t have a son. She’d have a grave to mourn and a boy to bury.

Tears? How unlike her.

A mother’s love would make him soft, and she couldn’t have that. Would she break, though, in the end, if it came to never letting him know that she was not the witch she presented herself to be? A mother who had no protection was a liability, a valuable hostage, and she could not let others control him like that. To have him on a leash, forever serving others…she already had enough of that life and enough was enough.

She did not suffer to see her nightmares repeated over and over. He’d find all the war theory he needed, all the tactics, and all sorts of histories in her library, and that was the only reason she had ever given him the keys, because those were books that she never quite permitted him.

Power…was alluring, and like she once did, he hungered for power. In a way, she still did. She hungered for the power to protect him.

Her death, of course, was a good option, but she’d rather see the day he was crowned Tsar with the cheers of the people with her own two eyes than in her dreams.

For now, she’d have to be content with hiding away. Ivan was a good enough source of information, no matter how insufferable. The insane girl…Yasha something was also a good source, however bloody her tales turned to be. If he were able to walk away from such bloodshed, he was indeed in a better position than some of the other princes, or so she hoped.

The killings would never die down unless it were his crowning.

In a way, she was proud that he learnt to play to his own strengths. He had the beauty that no other prince quite possessed – Nikolai was close, but his smiles were different from Aleksandr’s silence and also the advantage with the people. The peasants were easy to appease – his mother was a peasant, and by their logic, so was Aleksandr, and their peasant king, in theory, had sounded good. It meant nothing and it would never truly mean anything, but it was a comforting thought that they could exploit.

So much for being one of the people.

She’d already ruined herself and everything she’d have for him, and one day, someday, it would all pay off. How long…still remained a question.

Baghra did not expect forgiveness from a son who wasn’t taught to forgive, but she expected understanding. Understanding that the past twenty something years were partially a ploy and partially a necessity, that she would have never hurt him for her own satisfaction. She wasn’t petty enough for that, strange as that may have sounded.

Would he expect her explanation? Would he anticipate it? The thought of it, that he still softened himself and allowed himself affection frightened her.

To hope that the girl wouldn’t coddle him at all…was like hoping that a flame on your coat was not going to consume you. It was bad enough that the tsar and his family were soft and that he were to constantly be left around them, but he had a certain disdain for their frivolous ways that she hoped would protect him, at least for the time being.

~~~

“Alina, would you help me in my fitting? I can’t find my servant.” Zoya stood in her doorway, draped in some sort of shot silk.

“Alright.” What else was there to say? It wasn’t like Zoya would just give up if she refused.

It didn’t end up just being a fitting, but rather a complete overhaul of her room. Zoya seemed to relinquish that for once, Alina was hardly the one in control. Even her limbs were having a hard time being kept in check.

_Damn this body. How weak had I been?_

The woman she was had been used to difficult manual labor. This girl…even if she was no noble, she was certainly coddled, and Alina hated it. Some things just didn’t match up and one such thing was her perception of her own strength.

Her arms were ready to give out. “If you keep on making me kill my arms, you’ll have Marie killing you for letting her marry Vasily.” She muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said, Marie might be marrying Vasily, and if you tire me out, you’ll be stabbing her in the back.” Alina smiled innocently. It was one of the perks of being young again, that this smile didn’t seem contrived or overly false. Just false enough for the irony.

“Liar.” Zoya shrugged. “He’s already had enough of us.” Beneath her calm exterior, Alina could sense a hint of worry.

“I suggest you check for yourself.”

“Well then what about you? You and Aleksandr?” Her voice was clearly soured.

“What is it that you want to hear or know?” Alina yanked another dress from under a heavier one.

“Why are you even with him?” Zoya’s blue gaze was narrow. “You really can’t take a hint, can you?”

“Does it matter?” Alina smiled halfheartedly.

“You love him then.”

“I don’t.”

Zoya examined her face, and it didn’t seem like a lie. Alina neither blushed nor shied away from the mention and instead stared back up at her impassively, almost as if Zoya were wasting her time with such questions.

“Then why are you with him?”

“You’ve even got that wrong.” She smiled humorlessly. “And, you might want to start planning on how you’ll save your sister. I’m sure she’s thrilled that her mother is marrying her off to some weak chinned, sleepy eyed prince. She’ll be delighted to hear that, and I’m simply tired to care anymore.” _More like sell off. What is there that she wouldn’t do?_

“How bored are you?”

“Not at all.”

“If it’s not love you want, what else is there to have?” The moment the words left her mouth, Zoya realized something.

Aleksandr was a prince.

_But what mother said…it is true, is it not? Damn the fact that he is too quiet._

She could be satisfied that Alina picked wrong, but knowing what that girl was capable of, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

If Alina were tsarina…the bastard would rise higher than she did, and she doubted that Aleksandr would ever turn and look at her…

To Alina, Zoya was an easy person to read, at least at this point in time.

_She’d probably tell her mother._

Now, now, now…things were back to how they were.

_How much would the baroness care?_

Less than she cared about her family’s honor, that was for sure, but it was probably enough to warrant another attitude change. In her mind, perhaps, nothing could stand in the way of her daughter’s rightful position on the dais without being an obstacle.

An obstacle to remove.

If it came to it, she would probably sacrifice the other two for Zoya’s rightful destiny – at least, in her mind. Zoya was the only child, after all, that she truly took care of from birth. The other two had nannies, seeing that she was tired out from keeping up with her first, and it just was never the same.

It didn’t help that Zoya was the most beautiful, the most exceptional, and clearly had the personality that the baroness wanted to see…

Alina almost felt sorry for the other two. Even if they turned a blind eye to her imprisonment and death, they didn’t deserve to be pawns to their own mother.

Things were already different. Had she married Vasily, Marie would never have been in a situation where the baroness could marry her off to him. She needed to find something, and quick, to avoid having to inevitably see Marie take a position opposing hers. 

“If you don’t love him, then why are you still with him?” Zoya asked again, her eyes almost downcast – as much as they could be while still retaining her air of haughtiness.

“I don’t want love, but he makes an acceptable conversation.”

It still fuelled Zoya’s suspicions.

Alina was correct in her guess that Zoya would talk to the baroness of everything, and Zoya was predictable in that way – Zoya may have despised her mother’s ambition and control, but she depended on her mother far too much for it to matter in any way.

Alina, after all, was still a lot less likeable.

And she didn’t have anything to offer, unlike the baroness.

And she was unpleasant and a hinderance more than any sort of help.

Funny that her role was to alleviate a situation now thrust upon Marie. Zoya almost wished that the girl never came, until she realized that she might’ve been the one to marry Vasily had Alina not been hastily brought back.

What exactly was she supposed to feel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter, had a lot of fun writing Baghra. I love that woman XD
> 
> Currently working on some more drawings...will show next time, promise!


	13. First snow

How long had it been since she came?

Alina didn’t particularly like snow unless she could curl up in a blanket and not feel the wind at the nape of her neck.

If Zoya was miserable enough to not bother her, then the baroness must’ve been truly cooking up some grand scheme.

Zoya's sulking had decreased the number of frog casualties, she presumed, as she no longer had the heart to scare her with dead critters. Probably good for the animals near the estate. 

Of course, it wasn’t going to involve Vasily, and that left only one viable option left.

What exactly was happening to Nikolai?

When Ruby was back, she’d know.

Either way, it was sooner or later because there wasn’t much to talk of lately. If such a change could occur, the nobility would discuss it in hushed tones at Princess Nina’s birthday celebrations. The invitation was marked with an address that had not been seen – the ownership of the mansion had passed and passed until it was in the King’s hold and it was never gifted nor mentioned that many thought it was forgotten or lost. As it turned out, the mansion ended up in Nina’s possession.

It should not have been a surprise. The King showered Nina with all the extravagant gifts in the world to silence the cries of the people for his brother, but there was much more than simply guilt at play. The gifts and extravagant lifestyle would keep her coddled and soft, and while she was certainly favored, she was dependent, and that secured his throne more than antagonizing his brother ever would. Even so, Nina was hardly a soft person.   
  


She might have been spoilt by the Royal Family, but it hardly showed in her demeanor, determination, or boldness, but it did show painfully in how open and uncharacteristically childish she was, at least in Alina’s eyes. Popular party guests and excellent friends demonstrated the same traits, but it was rather dangerous for someone at the heart of a power struggle to be so blatant in her demeanor, and if history were to repeat, she would still end her life a tragedy. 

The Fjerdan general, of all people, was the one she had fallen for. His mistake was not aligning himself and his country – not that he could have any say either way – with Vasily exactly.

Exile was an order.

Alina remember watching him being dragged away in chains, Vasily’s declaration that he was a traitor, and found herself questioning her trust in him.

She may have been stupid about her own feelings and letting them blind her, but she was never stupid about her alliances. Matthias Helvar had no interest in meddling with the politics of Ravka, especially since he was no powerful individual with any sort of say. Had Nina been power-hungry, she would have never looked at him more than once.

Nina had cried and cried and refused to come to court or see her brother, which ended with him declaring that she should remarry. That sent her into a complete spiral that ended with her kneeling in front of the palace for permission to join Matthias in exile. Vasily had hung him the next day and brought her to see his body a few days later.

Even until death, she clutched Matthias’ body, almost as if she believed that if she held onto him, he would not be dead. In the end, she wished to be buried with him, but Vasily had her grave built at the southern border, while the body of Matthias Helvar was delivered to a band of Ravkan spies in Fjerda to be buried.

In the moment she could not realize why he had forced his sister in name to go through such an ordeal, but later on, with her legs severed, she guessed that it was probably a combination of jealousy and spite. Nina never particularly cared for him and begged him for mercy when he had Nikolai executed, and that probably set him off. As the crown prince of Ravka, he never lived the luxurious lifestyle that was bestowed upon Nina, and his father treated him with a lot more disdain than genuine care at times.

Nina never had to go through any of it. At surface, the King was his best self to Nina.

Perhaps it didn’t feel fair to him, that a nearly useless princess, the daughter of a traitor had lived better than him, found genuine love, and could feel genuine love. Years and years of making use of the people around him wore on him and the sufferings that he had to go through…sufferings that in his mind, he didn’t deserve, which in the end he wanted to bestow upon others. Not everyone was an available target – it was only the useless ones that had suffered, the ones that he could discard now that he was the only prince and King.

Alina was at fault, too, for forcing him to be cruel, to be ruthless. It had worked, perhaps too well, but it also backfired on her. Keeping her alive without her legs, when he knew it was one of her fantasies to one day stroll around in Dva Stolba, where she had been born, to live and see a day where she could just be Alina and to not fear the assassination attempts that the other princes had made on her as well when they had realized her importance.

In a twisted way, maybe he did love her. That was why he remembered her every word – to later torture her with her idealistic fantasies. With her legs gone, he knew that she would never live to feel what she wanted to feel. The cell? So much for a stroll, if her legs were not limitations. Even the poison…she had only uttered that she wished that he would not have been poisoned and would not wish it upon anyone after the first attempt on Vasily’s life, early in their struggle.

What a fool she had been.

Most of their non-court appearances were not done in carriages marked with the Nazyalensky insigna and for good reason. It was rather dangerous to flaunt their family name when there were plenty of people waiting to take them down. No one with power was an exception.

It was difficult to wear power safely.

Ruby detailed Nikolai’s newest Shu Han alliances, and Alina feigned her surprise.

It had happened before, just not this early.

Nina’s newest mansion was just as grand as she remembered. The yard was lush even in the less than optimal weather, and even as the first snow of the year began to fall, the branches were hardly empty. The brown of the trunks had been obscured fully in the density of the leaves.

The party wasn’t really much for her – she had seen a lifetime of parties, and by now, she was almost sick of them. The King and Queen seemed to have been mostly unaffected and seemed to have a certain enthusiasm at gatherings.

They were what, in their forties? That would make them older than her, even with another life stacked upon her current life. She had already tired of parties and perhaps she wouldn’t have made a good queen anyways.

Not that she would get to keep her position.

Alina was surprised to feel relief at Nina’s youth and vigor, her cheeks full and rosy, the corners of her mouth permanently up as she greeted the people who had came. The last memory she had of her was her corpse – hollow and gray – eyes still open in a questioning look. It was hardly surprising that she could not rest in peace. It was quite haunting, to say at the very least, and she had secretly closed her eyes when Vasily had denied her even that. There wasn’t much else she could have done either. If he had found out, he would have been furious, but she had thought that she could risk it.

Of course, the presence of the king and queen…she searched around, and on the second floor were the three princes, a little easier around each other with a few glasses of wine. Behind Nikolai, she could spot two shadows, and she wasn’t even sure how to feel.

She knew who they were. Tolya and Tamar. Shu warriors, excellent fighters, and the root of some of her worst headaches.

They would probably stay headaches, but if she could get Vasily to fight them himself, it would weaken both parties. Nikolai wasn’t necessarily someone she wanted to see die a second time, but what else was there for her to do?

It hadn’t occurred to her that she had no idea where her endpoint was. To take down Vasily meant that she was involving herself in the power struggle that had begun, not even when the King was in poor health. Nikolai and Aleksandr were both strong contenders and had obviously better intentions for Ravka, but it was likely that any sort of fight would be long, difficult, and bloody.

Would Aleksandr expect her to still stand by him and be his queen? Would he become what Vasily had been after all those years of fighting?

Aleksandr hid himself far too well for that. If she were to die at his hand, he would make it a death that she never saw coming, a death that could never be traced to him. And to do something like that…she knew that he probably did not have the confidence to plan a seamless death. Especially with his knowledge of what kind of storm she was capable of stirring up. Besides, he was a lot less short sighted, and a lot less vain when choosing companions. Vasily thought of her as pretty, but plain, and made no effort to hide his opinion.

_What did the others think, I wonder?_ Alina knew she was no beauty and the ideal of Ravka beauty frowned upon her painfully gray skin and thin hair. Put her next to Zoya, icy eyes, bronzed skin and flowing hair, or Genya, with an alabaster complexion and amber eyes and she was forgettable.

She should have seen it coming.

However unwilling Zoya had been to the idea of courting Nikolai’s favor, she seemed quite happy, at the very least. Nikolai the charmer, of course. His mother was difficult to make happy and he could manage to procure her smiles even when she was absolutely fuming. And fuming…was something the queen did often and was proficient at.

In the end, would history repeat itself? Zoya was infatuated with Aleksandr, but then with the baroness’ encouragement, her attentions slowly focused on Nikolai even without her realizing it. Then of course…

The Shu needed more than just favor.

Nikolai did not marry her.

Another prince had broken her heart, and the worst part for Zoya was that she never realized she had cared for Nikolai until she was fated to lose him.

_I suppose that explains it. Why she was bent on stealing what was mine that she hadn’t wanted…was it retribution? Retribution against Aleksandr or Nikolai or Ehri? A way to prove that it wasn’t her who wasn’t wanted anywhere? A way to say that she did not care for her former lovers and was now aligning herself with their enemy?_

_Well…it’s not like Nikolai could refuse Ehri. Not when he had to go to war to do so. He may have enjoyed Zoya’s company, but it was his position that gave her it in the first place, and it was his position that he had to serve, not his feelings._

Probably all of them, and more. Zoya had never taken well to being snubbed.

There wasn’t much to be said with Aleksandr when there were pairs of listening ears at every corner.

“Welcome to this life.” He was almost amused to see her clear disdain at the loudness of the room, large but not large enough to disperse all the sounds of people talking. A small smile played at his lips. “I wonder how you find it.”

“It’s what, the third one and I’m bored out of my mind.”

“Come with me.” She hadn’t been expecting him to take her hand or to find herself so easy to drag around.

_Oh, I’m not even half of him. Screw it._ Keramzin had not been easy on her, and she had never been anything but small.

Small and dangerous.

The thought of it sent a small smile to her lips.

Guests seemed to seldom visit the garden. It looked a dream with the small pond, shimmering with the stars in the night sky. The building had mercifully shielded her from the brunt of the wind, but even then, she felt cold and the need to curl up somewhere.

“You’re cold.” She didn’t realize that he had already let go of her hand, and was now facing her rather than by her side.

Alina didn’t say anything. If she made one wrong move, her secret would be out.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. “I should have remembered that it was cold today.” He had removed his kefta, leaving a dark gray rubakha and his sash, draping it across her shoulders.

“Thank you.” She replied tentatively.

It was a careful reply that came out of surprise.

Vasily, for all his claims to have loved and cherished her, had never bothered to check if she was anything more than just alive and kicking. If she were, he would move on.

Perhaps another version of her – her younger, happier self - could’ve been touched by the gesture, but all the time spent fighting for her life and Vasily’s had eroded that girl piece by piece until she was fragmented and would never be whole again.

Here was someone who had no care, only use in store, for her, but even his pretense was better than Vasily’s claims.

And it did feel better to hide her upper body from the cold. Her dress, with the underskirt and pants, could cover her feet and legs, but the fabric was hardly heavy enough for her liking when only in a single layer. His kefta was much better suited for the cold, and it was more than adequately large to cover her from head to toe.

“Are you not cold?” She asked.

He simply shook his head. “I gather that you are from the South?”

Alina nodded.

_Avoiding exposing yourself again, I see._

“So, what’s next? Are you going to find someone to get rid of those mercenaries Nikolai has?”

“Dunyasha knows what we are up against.”

“I imagine that Vasily is turning in agony from not being their choice of prospect.”

“He has been rather unhappy about it.”

“Drunk?”

Aleksandr nodded.

Alina had banned Vasily from drinking during the worst of their attempt at the throne. She needed him sober and capable of making a next move, not drunk out of his mind while spouting nonsense. Another something that he put against her, she supposed. It was not a welcome thing…that she had intruded on his expression of his misery.

“I am not surprised.”

“And you shouldn’t. Our job,” he paused, a hand landing at the center of her back, “is getting a lot easier.”

She smiled.

“I hope you are right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://ibb.co/dpNsDwY) [](https://ibb.co/WVK3cxL) [](https://ibb.co/1LYgDRN) [](https://ibb.co/h7NtFnC)
> 
> Pics of a Morozova's collar that I am making (not the final wire or anything - I'm waiting for that to arrive and I used a temporary wire hoop to test the effect/size of the antlers), some concept art for Baghra, Aleksandr and Alina and yeah. I promised and I shall deliver. They're not good or anything and I've never studied sketching - I've done oil painting sporadically when my schedule allows it but that's almost never. He looks a little too pretty in the drawing on grid paper, but well...I was trying to test out the hair and I guess I need to change his features up a bit. Always imagined him as a really pretty guy with slightly longer than average hair and kind of a princely demeanor (oddly enough that I write him as a prince huh but Baghra's mocking "dreaming of dancing with your dark prince" was very inspiring. Thanks old woman hahaha)
> 
> Bored enough to blog about my health...sigh. It's gonna take a long time to get anythinng out now. Visit if you will. https://healthjourneyofmine.blogspot.com/
> 
> Shameless self promotion. This might be the last chapter in some time because I'm exhausted right now (TMI on my period, first time I've got it in a long time, lost it because of stress, exercise and unintentional weight loss). Normally I'd get horrid cramps, but this time I feel as if I am completely sick. I still got this stuff finished because I love love love love love writing...but I am so exhausted that I couldn't even walk home today from the grocery store, and nearly fainted (partly because of the head, partly because of my damn period). I'm still permanently dizzy, so if anything seems incoherent in this chapter, feel free to point it out.
> 
> Once again comments welcome! I love reading and replying to comments, so if you have anything to say, please do!


	14. Masterminds

Vasily had sent someone to call Aleksandr and she had hastily handed him his coat back before scurrying back in before the cold could hit her.

What else was there to do?

The three of them, Nikolai, Aleksandr and Vasily had borrowed Nina’s antique chess board and were now excitedly positioning the pieces for a game.

It was hard to imagine that they were enemies when they had seemed so amiable and at ease with one another.

“Are you not going to play?” Alina had turned towards Nina, peering intently at the board, almost as if the game had already started.

“I have access whenever I want.” She shrugged. “They don’t get to mess around so often.”

_Another mark of her upbringing, perhaps._

“You two can play first.” Nikolai offered. “I’ll watch.”

_Sneaky._ She wanted to laugh. _You’re here figuring out their weaknesses, and trying to hide yours._ Nikolai’s playing style was very intricate, confusing and often shockingly brilliant, but his own strengths were also his downfall. Once you saw past some of his intent, it was easy to find ways to undermine him, and that was his demise in the end. In a way, he had crafted his own end.

_The too-clever fox had doomed himself._

Vasily and Aleksandr had sat down, the former playing white, the latter playing black.

Although Vasily had been an idiot once, he had access to some of the best teachers in all of Ravka, and his father’s undivided attention far before Nikolai was old enough to play a formidable game. Aleksandr was no fool but he never had the same upbringing or attention, being the youngest and a bastard.

She wasn’t sure how they would have matched up had Aleksandr been given a few more years as she had never the chance to see it, but at this point, Aleksandr, no matter how valiant an effort he was going to put up, would lose. He simply did not have the same understanding of the game.

Either way, she was interested in seeing how her input had changed the two of them.

Vasily’s moves were definitely very forward and threatening, difficult to defend oneself from, and his strength definitely lay in the openings. He could pin down someone quickly, but it was difficult for him to fully disarm his opponent, and wasn’t that how they dragged their battles out in her past? Vasily’s attacks made it difficult to control the board.

Aleksandr was a lot more subtle. She could note that his developments were strong, but it wasn’t the right tactic against someone like Vasily. For many of his tactics to work, he had to wait, and during that, it was likely that he would suffer some losses, and that would affect his endgame more than either he or Vasily thought. You could not control the board without enough pieces.

He simply thought too much and the idea of being completely forward wasn’t exactly a familiar concept. Putting yourself completely forward would give the opponent chances to exploit your positional weaknesses, and she supposed that he was waiting for the chance to exploit some mistake that Vasily would make in the beginning that affected his end, but whether that would be enough for him to turn the game around, she didn’t know. All she knew was that playing styles and tactics very closely mirrored a person’s true self, and that true self being put on display so blatantly…she didn’t know what to think of it. 

He would find some way to die off later, but perhaps not if she were going to participate.

Vasily’s love for chess was something that she forced herself to appease. Books, tutors, and playing against herself, exploiting her own weaknesses and mistakes over and over until she was sure that she were about to split into two, but it worked. She could match Vasily, but in consideration of his pride and already beaten ego, she had made sure to lose, and lose seamlessly. As if she had used all the tactics and forethought in the world, but still ended her game in a way that made winning nearly impossible. She could have saved the game some way, somewhere along the way, but she had not.

Wasn’t that how she treated herself?

_Chess imitates life and reveals too much of you._

“Mother is leaving, are you not coming?” Marie pulled at her sleeve. “She’s already saying her goodbyes.”

“I thought she might want to watch the game.” Vasily had said.

_Not if it ends._

Alina placed her hand on top of Aleksandr’s. “May I?”

“What, you’ll help him?” Vasily’s surprise was evident.

She considered their positions.

Vasily couldn’t attack to the extent of his pieces’ power and Aleksandr wasn’t going to hold up if he played overly defensive.

Alina eyed the rook and queen, and instead of taking Aleksandr’s remaining rook, she had moved his black bishop. Vasily had a very slight weakness on his black pieces – he often played with a slight color weakness that his opponents usually couldn’t exploit as it would only start showing itself in the endgame, and his moves would often influence the opponents to develop their white squares that he played well in, but with her knowledge on how he had played, if she had exploited that very fact at this point, he would lose and Aleksandr would be able to win just by switching up one of his moves.

He’d likely have played his queen, but it wouldn’t give him any more strength than Vasily’s following moves and advantage, and they’d still be on equal ground. For someone at a disadvantage, equal was a bad idea. He wasn’t armed with the tactics to completely defend himself while forcing a draw or attempting to win.

Vasily wasn’t equally as good at defense, and her move probably wasn’t something he would expect to be played. It was the element of surprise too – that he would play Aleksandr with a tactic of someone else’s, and that tactic put Aleksandr at an advantage, at least temporarily, but it would give him enough of an edge to win.

“How?” Vasily’s face had changed when he realized what the move meant.

“Aleksandr’s winning.” Nina had been distracted by Nikolai’s tale and only with Vasily’s exclamation she had turned towards the board, slightly surprised. “When did that happen?”

“I’ll leave now.”

She didn’t really have many people to say goodbye to, unlike the baroness.

Apparently, it seemed, that a lot of nobles didn’t bother with safety.

Maybe the Nazyalenskys were paranoid, and perhaps rightfully so, but the majority of the carriages leaving the estate weren’t exactly in disguise despite the amount of opportunity for trouble in the long ride back. Safina’s carriage was wooden and plain, but that was to be expected with her father’s position, and there were very few wooden, plainer carriages, and even less bearing no sign of power whatsoever. Those were things that she had never noticed…but now, it was not like she could stop herself from looking and noting it down in her mind.

Kaminsky also left in a similar carriage, with no decorations and only two horses. There were a few, but very few compared to the number of guests. Ruby and Alina climbed into their carriage, and she felt tired, for the first time in a long while.

History was bound to repeat itself.

She was going to have to watch every last minute of a bloody fight – if she were interested in living of course, and she was.

The carriage had stopped, and she was jolted back into consciousness. Ruby frowned. “I’m not quite sure what’s happening. Should I check?”

“Let’s wait a bit.” Alina said, but she peered in the slit of the curtain.

There wasn’t anyone in front of her, and it was good that there wasn’t anyone who was behind her. But besides her…something was wrong. Something was very wrong. This wasn’t the path back.

And then she heard the screams. From the sound of something hitting the front, she guessed that someone was attacking the driver. The guards at the back too. Then the pounding on the door, and the knife that had completely severed the side of the carriage.

An ordinary knife had no chance. Another one struck the lock, and they were running out of time.

These were no ordinary bandits. Mercenaries, assassins, whatever it was, someone had wanted her dead.

Who could it have been? She had still been useful and it was unwise, especially when the Nazyalensky family stood behind her.

“Oh no.” Ruby turned pale.

Alina had no time to lose. She had slit open the right of her chest using the blade that had lodged itself through the door and fell, kneeling against the seats. To further the illusion, she had smeared the blood over her clothing, and bit open the tip of her tongue.

_Play dead._ She mouthed. Ruby understood, but it was too late. Masked men had swarmed in, and they had almost been surprised at the carriage’s passengers, but not before they had stabbed Ruby too. It seemed that they were convinced by her pretense, but she had seen enough dead for a lifetime, and there was no way she’d survive that injury in the wilderness with her companion dead – or so it seemed.

At least the girl was a good actor. Ruby had seen her bite her tongue, and she guessed that Ruby probably did it too, and then she heard the crackle of fire when the carriage was kicked over to block the hole, and with the disappearing footsteps she knew that they had to move else they were truly going to die.

Alina had no interest in dying a second time.

Through the other window, and finally through the hole they had pierced, she didn’t see anyone in sight, and she had dragged Ruby out and into a bush and watched the flames consume the carriage. Her horses were gone, and the guards’ stabbed bodies were burning too.

For all their excellent weaponry, these men sucked at their job. She was glad that they did, otherwise, she would have really been dead. A quick bandage for Ruby’s wound and some for hers was probably good enough to do the trick, but where was she? Ruby was going to die if she didn’t do anything.

Aleksandr’s residence was probably close enough, but she wasn’t sure how far she could drag the two of them without collapsing. Ruby was taller and it was a struggle to even walk with Ruby leaning on her.

Either way, she had to try.

Ruby didn’t deserve to die for any of her ambition or foolishness.

The lights of Os Alta were in view, and from the view, she could tell that they weren’t too far off from their original path and were in the same area. She could return to Nina’s manor, but it seemed that staying in the city would be safer.

This corner…she could find Aleksandr’s residence, could she not? An entire life spent in Os Alta should have made her more certain, but eight years in a cell had washed away a lot of it, as she no longer had a need for it. Somewhere, somehow, she knew that she would never leave the cell.

It was a start, anyway.

If she could walk, she would walk. If she couldn’t, she’d claw her way back, and she was not going to die or lose anything in this wretched forest. If she could live through eight years of a never ending torment, she’d better be able to claw herself back, even if she were weaker and smaller.

_Saints…_

Ruby’s breathing was light, but it was still there. If she were alive, there still would be hope.

As soon as she entered the walls of Os Alta, Aleksandr’s residence was in sight. Her memory had served her well.

She must’ve spent more time than she realized in the forest. Aleksandr had stayed longer at the gathering, but now, she saw him getting out of his coach, Ivan and one of his guards flanking him. The sight had given her enough strength to run, and upon hearing footsteps, Ivan had turned, his hand on his knife, ready to attack.

“I apologize for disturbing you.” She had stopped, and Ivan’s hand had left his weapon as soon as he recognized the face, and the blood drained from his face when he saw clearly the slashed dress and the blood staining her chest. “I am not hurt,” she said, “but she was stabbed. Get her help.”

Almost, not quite, Ivan felt the compulsion to take the order before he turned to Aleksandr. He nodded. “Find them a healer.”

“Thank you.” Alina had bowed. “Both of us?”

Aleksandr raised an eyebrow. Ivan looked at her as if she were insane. “You need one.”

_For someone who just brushed by death, she is far too calm._ He was not sure if it was normal – what exactly did she feel towards death?

“I don’t. Really, that was all for show.” She shrugged. “I slashed myself before they saw me. They thought I was dead.”

“You would not want to end up with an infection.”

He was probably right, and she wasn’t exactly in the best physical shape.

Ivan had lifted Ruby off her back, and she was grateful for the relief. Behind Ruby, Alina finally breathed a little easier.

“I will talk to you after your wounds are bandaged.” Aleksandr said, leaving her with no choice but follow Ivan and Ruby.

Ruby had been placed in a chair and the woman soaked at the makeshift bandage until it came away. Alina could see the woman’s surprise when she did not turn away or show any fear.

_I’ve seen a lifetime of blood._

The woman frowned upon seeing the depth of the wound.

“Will she live?”

“Hard to say.” The woman opened one of her jars. “I have something for infection, but it seems that she’s not exactly in the best of position. We shouldn’t even be worrying about that. I’d have to stitch her up, but she will need rest for a very long time, and even then, she might still have trouble breathing. They missed her heart, but not by a lot. It seems that her heart is not on the left of her chest. If she lives tonight, she should make it.”

“How do you know?”

“I was searching for a beat and I couldn’t find it on the left.” The woman smiled. “I was almost certain that was dead, but she was still breathing, and it seems that she’s hanging on. You were very gentle on her and that helped.”

“Thank you.”

“You should apply this.” She handed Alina a bottle. “And this.” A small jar was thrust into her hands as well, along with a hot towel and bandages.

Alina was no stranger to bandaging herself.

After all, she had been very, very alone once. Even if she didn’t realize it.

Two knocks.

“He would like to see you.” Ivan sounded almost bored and rather unwilling.

“Alright.” She wrapped her coat around her, and then the cape.

Aleksandr probably already had an idea of who it was, and she was going to wrestle it out of him.

“What did they look like?”

“Dark gray clothing. Masked faces. Good weapons, but crappy skill.” She listed out. There was something oddly familiar about it as she spoke the words.

“Sounds like the Queen.”

A memory came back to her. Safina climbing into her carriage, plain and drawn by a pair of horses.

She wondered what exactly had pushed the queen beyond any sort of sense.

“I think,” Aleksandr said slowly, “that she is afraid of you.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

She had her suspicions, but now she knew, or could guess with certainty that Safina had done something to aggravate the queen beyond any reason.

“She doesn’t have mercenaries because they are difficult to hire without my father knowing.” Aleksandr had seemed to read her thoughts. “Her assassins do the job only because her targets are never people who can put up a fight. She targeted my mother once when she was carrying me.” There was no emotion, not even a sign of resentment, in his voice. “As you can see, she wasn’t very good at it.”

Now she knew. If Safina was pregnant with another son, that was only going to lead to trouble. But was she? Safina wanted nothing but to hide and stay away, and would probably kill herself before she had to be a part of the court through her child.

_Genya Safina, you always love trusting the wrong person…_

“I sent someone to check the carriage. It was not yours. You had gotten into the wrong one.”

“Wow.” She laughed.

If there was any judgement on his mind, he didn’t show it.

“That means…Safina is currently at the Nazylensky mansion. And safe.”

“Tell her what I told you.”

“I’ll make sure to give you the credit.” She smiled. “You’re a hero now, Aleksandr, and that should piss Vasily off enough. Your father would be proud.”

“And you’ll have me at your mercy.” He said. “Why would I want that?”

“I have told you time and time that my interest is in eliminating Vasily, not you. Besides, think about it. I was attacked. There are people who will gossip about my reputation. I have enough incentive to not let them know.”

“You’ll be the one to say it.”

“And you will affirm it.”

Alina had returned to the healer’s workroom and spent a night curled up on a sofa.

The next morning, she had returned to the Nazyalensky residence in Aleksandr’s coach, much to the baroness’ surprise.

The unexpected attack, the carriage switching…plenty of fingers were being pointed. Genya was the target, and people could not fanthom why the girl was attacked. Plenty of theory floated around that it had been meant for Kaminsky, but even that wasn’t a good explanation when Kaminsky himself never had much to do with the court. In the midst of all the speculation, the queen had someone send for Alina in secret.

“I apologize, lady Alina.” She had told her. “We received reports last night stating that a spy from Fjerda had slipped into the banquet and were leaving in such a carriage.”

“I’m fine, am I not?” She beamed.

“In the future, when people think of lady Alina, they will think of the girl who did not utter a complaint in the name of justice for Ravka.” She smiled. “Not the Nazyalensky bastard.”

The queen had probably felt a little remorse, Alina supposed, at the mistake.

_Is she accepting of it?_ The queen knew and had witnessed that Alina was a very intelligent person, but it seemed that she didn’t realize the implication until she had spoken it out loud. _After all, she is a child._

“Thank you,” Alina had bowed again.

“I will have a gift delivered later,” the queen dismissed her with a wave of her hands, “you may leave.”

_Have I been too rash?_ When the news of Safina’s strange arrival at the Nazylensky mansion, she wanted to curse. It was not supposed to be that way.

The fool of a coachman had not bothered to check if his passenger was indeed Genya and not someone else, but given that Genya’s plain carriage was not a common sight, it didn’t occur to anyone that the wrong person would be in it. He was a dead man, anyway, the moment he had been summoned to an audience with her, and his death would mean her safety.

No one, no one at all, was going to ever threaten her sons’ positions. Aleksandr was broken enough by his witch of a mother, and Vasily never found much fault in him except for his timid nature, which was a benefit in her eyes. Maybe in her son’s eyes, he was being limited by some rule-following idiot, but she hoped that Aleksandr would rein in Vasily’s well-known love or debauchery a little, in hopes that she would see both of her sons when one was crowned.

It would have been better if he were never born, but she had failed and failed again. It was not like she could attract highly skilled mercenaries in secret, and to have such power…her husband would not have tolerated it. But it was better than having nothing. She had realized, in the end, Baghra’s strength of character would mean the demise of her son’s future, and it turned out, she was right.

She could only hope that Genya Safin of all people were not pregnant.

The very next day, they had watched three Fjerdan spies be hung at the gallows.

Alina had no interest in going, but the baroness had insisted on her appearance.

She wasn’t even sure they were Fjerdan – they just looked the part, all blonde hair and blue eyes and icy skin. No one was that stupid, to send spies who had embodied the exact stereotype they were known for.

_Vasily clearly took his fascination for public executions from his father,_ she thought.

There was nothing notable in watching people struggle in desperation, and she hated that sense of imminent death. There were no truly merciful methods, and no matter what death it was, it would result in plenty of suffering.

This was why someone who had nothing to live for would still fight the prospect of death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, remember what I said yesterday about fatigue? Welp, it's been gone, and I wrote a giant chapter by my standards. This one's nearly 3.6k and took me 3 hours of typing and editing and research too - I'm a shitty chess player and had to research a lot of tactical stuff. I think how I play chess is also quite telling - so it is true, what I wrote - that I move first and think later, but manage to put up a good fight in the end by being an absolute asshole to my opponent. 
> 
> Comments welcome! Kudos appreciated! 
> 
> I love writing way too much to give up. There's not much else for me to do anyways, and I want to have something out before school.
> 
> I was gonna leave this at 2k or something on a cliffhanger, but I decided that it would be too cruel. 
> 
> Don't worry guys, Genya is definitely not pregnant. She makes sure of it. 
> 
> Nikolai will be very, very present when to solidfying his power, don't worry. 
> 
> And here is where my story officially diverges a lot from the work that inspired my fic.


	15. Put beyond saving

Vasily thought he finally figured out something of Aleksandr’s that wasn’t as cautious as the rest of him.

That girl…Alina…was a little like Baghra, he had not realized, and perhaps that was Aleksandr’s weakness. Or it was his strange taste in women. It was not like he hadn’t tried to control him further by women, but he never seemed to be affected at all. Maybe debauchery was his sin, but it did give him power over others who could not resist the same sins that he found himself sinking in.

That was something most men in power could agree with. At least he knew how to enjoy life, or so he thought.

Not something that he could understand, either way, and he almost considered the option of sending men instead, only that he realized if he had truly a fondness for men and not women…wasn’t there Ivan already? He would have lost out either way.

Maybe Aleksandr’s tastes didn’t lie in beauties like Nazyalensky’s eldest or the Safin girl. Strange, but he could work with it. There had to be someone who looked similar to Alina, to have that kind of face and that kind of aura and the painfully knobby figure…his ally was useful, but had disturbingly bad taste.

_Searching Dva Stolba should be a good start_. He had recalled from the baron’s conversation with him some time ago that her mother was from the south. That made sense. He had wondered if she were of partly Shu descent, with the tone of her skin and the way her mouth was set paper thin.

Still, he felt that Aleksandr could do better…how was it that a block of ice had melted for something so insignificant? He would not have done the same at all…he would not have melted even for Zoya or Genya.

The way he talked of her, spent time with her, and actually bothered to speak to her…Aleksandr didn’t have to admit it when Vasily knew exactly what was up.

Some of his men would have been waiting for a chance to prove themselves, and this time he’d have one to offer them.

~~~

Nina had insisted on dragging all three of her brothers – Vasily, Nikolai and Aleksandr - to the baron’s estate, citing a need to visit Zoya, likely still sulking and unwilling to leave the house.

Oddly enough, Zoya was pleasant to the girl and didn’t attempt to make her cry as she did with many others.

Besides, she was interested in getting them married off. If it were someone she knew, even better.

Her youngest brother was clearly smitten with Alina, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would accept. Alina…well she was kind of cold, in Nina’s eyes, but not a bad person. Weird, strange, but her brother was strange too.

Alina had almost forgotten that princess Nina was barely even fourteen, maybe fifteen at the most, and it was clear in her giggles that she still had a childhood.

In a way, she was jealous. Jealous that Nina had a childhood, but she knew that it was a way to doom her too. She was never coddled, and thus never kept weak on purpose. She could whine about being pushed around and shoved to the ground, but she supposed it just made her stronger and better at hiding.

_Her intentions are written all over her face._ Alina wanted to shake her to make her realize that she was in dangerous territory, but Nina had to grow up, sooner or later. _Let her enjoy her childhood…you’ll be the one to protect her this time too._ Nina’s position had offered her enough protection in her previous life, and she was still grateful for Nina’s kindnesses…no matter how silly she found some of her thoughts or impulses, she had to admit that she appreciated the girl.

Vasily looked bored, or drunk. Not his fault, really. He had his heavy lidded eyes, a gift from his father, and also the chin, looking as if he had smushed his face back to intentionally create an extra chin even when the rest of him wasn’t as heavy as it suggested. The king after a lifetime of drinking had accumulated the famous beer belly, although not full of beer but likely kvas, and she had not lived long enough to see what became of Vasily.

Maybe she should be glad. Watching someone she had loved waste away…it was never pretty.

Had loved.

What remained of her love, was hate. And she would never love until she forgot herself and her value in the world ever again. Vasily was selfish, but his selfishness got him places. Her contributions had become his the moment he needed it, and there was no one left to protest but her.

Either way, Vasily wasn’t interested in what his little sister had to ramble on about, probably some dress or piece of jewelry the Queen had offered her, or something that her father had brought her, gifted to him by dignitaries from the neighboring nations. Nina had probably eaten more delicacies than he did – dragon’s beard candy and squares of mungbean cake from Shu Han, dessert caviar from Fjerda, Kerch chocolates, exotic, perfectly shaped fruit from Novyi Zem…she was always first and if there was any left, it would have been up to him to divide it all.

How fitting it was that the three of them were dressed so differently. Vasily wore blue, Nikolai turquoise, and while what Aleksandr wore could have been technically blue, it more or less showed his distaste for royal matters or any sort of power really. It was the coat of someone who didn’t give a damn and didn’t have a future or belong in the monarchy. Someone who just slipped into the shadows and never left.

_Not. We all know what has to be done. I know who you are, and you do too._

“Bored of us yet?” Nikolai had chimed in, sliding away from Nina and Zoya, who had occupied Vasily with pestering questions.

“I find it amusing to watch.”

“Don’t you have some tale of woe to tell me?”

“I don’t have any tales.”

_Except maybe one too many things that I haven’t told anyone and will never tell anyone._

“Well isn’t that wonderful?”

“Don’t you have tales to tell?”

“Oh yes,” she watched him warily, “but I’m not interested in telling them before a pretty girl tells me.”

No wonder the queen liked him so much.

“I’d tell you but I think you should go save your brother first.” She eyed Vasily, now looking on the brink of collapse. Nina was very, very talkative and Zoya pushed her, knowing that Vasily didn’t like to be bothered so much. Maybe in Zoya’s logic, Vasily didn’t even deserve to be in her company, and that was her way of making sure that he never had the chance to utter a single word to her.

“Vasily? Nah, he’s capable of multitasking.” He replied smoothly, “serves him right for hogging all the goodies.”

Alina let out a small laugh. “Like you don’t.”

“I’m nice. I only hog half of them.”

“You have two brothers.”

“And a sister.”

“You really don’t want to leave anyone out, do you?”

“Of course not, otherwise I’d be stuffed to the brim.” He seemed to consider the prospect for a moment. “Tell me, would a royal gut lend me more authority?”

“You’d look pregnant. Seven months, give or take two.”

“Impossible, or improbable?” Nikolai laughed. “You should look to my mother – oh wait, even I don’t know what to expect.” He made a mock horrified expression. “She’ll never tell me.” He whined.

“I’m sure if she’s drunk and you’re not she’ll tell you whatever it is you want to hear and chase you out. Oh, and you wouldn’t like what she has to say.”

“You make it sound like she doesn’t love me.” He looked hurt. “Tell me, do you do this to every prince you meet?” Nikolai took on Nina’s devious matchmaker expression. “Both my brothers too?”

“What a joke, Nikolai. One can’t stand me and the other one barely tolerates me.”

“You’re using my name, and that’s progress.”

Even she couldn’t believe how fast he could switch between smiles and pouting and expressions of mock sadness.

Another lifetime of miracles, she guessed.

“That’s not the point.”

Spending time with a person who could draw out a smile was difficult and dangerous. Both Aleksandr and Alina were more than well aware of the fact, but it wasn’t like either of them could avoid Nikolai completely.

He had lost interest in Alina when Vasily’s smile turned into a frown and the frown deepened to a scowl.

It was more fun to watch Nikolai pester Vasily, just ever so slightly, pushing his advantage. It didn’t help that Vasily was easily jealous that Nikolai swiftly charmed Zoya, who had been scowling when Nina wasn’t looking. Or that Nina seemed to like Nikolai’s tales that weren’t quite real much more than any answer she could get from Vasily.

_She’s still a child._ Alina had to remind herself every now and then. It was strange…seeing people like they once were. No one would notice her disappearance except maybe Aleksandr, and she needed a word with him.

When he had caught her to her steps in the garden, she didn’t have to turn around to know that it was him.

“It was directed at Safina, not you.” _The queen’s assassination attempt, of course._ “That much I think you’ve figured out.”

“If she were directing it at me, I’d at least respond.” Aleksandr replied easily.

_He knows._

“We both see an opportunity, am I right?” She faced him with a slight smile. “Being suspected of allegiance towards an enemy nation…”

_So the queen is trying to make Genya’s allegiance questionable. She isn’t stupid._

“An informant both on the queen and king,” he matched her expression with a half smile of his own. “Effective.” _Brutal, isn’t it?_

“What do you know of her?” _I know the answers, Aleksandr, so it will be useless to lie._

“She’s desperate,” He counted off. “And miserable.”

It wasn’t like the idea had not come to him, to ensure that the queen’s reluctant favor for Genya’s skill was used for him, but there wasn’t much opportunity and the girl would likely tattle.

_He isn’t lying. She’s every bit as desperate and miserable as he makes it out to be. It might escape someone who was less observant though._

There were certain things that only misery would prompt one to do.

“With her life on the line…” Alina smiled. The way her mouth tilted…it reminded him of a wolf before its prey. “There’s not much else she can do. She’ll risk death either way, and there will be no one else to help her. Vasily likely wants her for himself, Nikolai doesn’t care because it’s his mother and father that he’ll be defying, and she’s going to die one day if she’s not careful because of the queen. One rumor will be enough to ruin her. Safina is a smart girl and she will agree, Aleksandr. Being supposedly aligned with Fjerda is bad enough. It’s more harmful when it’s pure speculation that people will extract from each other and never forget. The queen didn’t have to speak a word.”

“That much I realized.”

“Now I suppose you’ll be figuring out how to contact her.”

_If I couldn’t read people, I would’ve been dead long before the cold palace was Vasily’s prison to use._

Aleksandr had seemed ever so slightly surprised, and she wondered if that was some of the only genuine emotion he was capable of possessing. “Her biggest problem is that she has no privacy at all. You don’t want to be the treasonous son, Aleksandr, and just have someone walk in on her. The king knows that Genya is a target and her servants are nothing but spies meant to keep her in check.”

“How would you know all of this?” He glanced at her, almost smiling, but not quite.

“Pure logic.” Alina shrugged. “That’s not the important part. The important part is that you will not have a lot of chances to speak to her, so instead you’ll need to either pass her something or put one of your supporters somewhere near her. Anything can be bought for the right price. Or it just means that you already have someone who is there right now who can become one of your supporters.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries. I’ll be delighted to hear updates.”

“Alina,” he had stopped and was now facing her. “Why are you helping me?”

_I know it doesn’t seem logical, Aleksandr, but just accept it._

_Weakness is a guise. Emotions are weakness, and we’ve all learnt that lesson._

“I’m not going to get any benefit from Vasily or Nikolai.” She smiled, almost sad, “I can live only for myself.”

It was something that he’d expect her, Alina Nazyalenskaya, to say, but it wasn’t something that made sense from a girl’s mouth.

“What, you’re expecting fairness from me?” He was almost amused.

“Not fairness. Honor.” She pronounced each syllable almost as if it were a newly acquired word. “I find the rest of your family…very lacking in it.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Either way, if you get Safina on your side willingly,” Alina’s voice and eyes seemed hollow, “it’ll be the end for Vasily.”

_This was way too easy._

She could not really believe it either. It wasn’t right…it didn’t feel right…that something that she had wanted for some time…was within her reach in a few words.

_Did I miss something?_

_It’s not the end, but the beginning of an end, isn’t it?_

“It’s the point of no return.” He seemed to read her mind, gray eyes glinting.

“Then we’d better do something about Marie.” Alina’s expression had seemed to recover. “I heard she’s bathing in her tears.”

“Vasily wants to marry her?” Even Aleksandr had trouble hiding his surprise. “Where is his pride?”

“Gone.” Alina scoffed. “Dead and gone. He needs to ensure that your support is being fragmented. The baron is happy to make a deal, and the baroness is pushing him to do so. It’s one thing to have one daughter in the line of succession but it’s better for them to have two.”

It might just keep the both of them alive.

“Who else is there?”

“Oh, they think me and you…” she rolled her eyes. “You can be as dense as you want, but no one quite understands the situation.”

“I’m afraid that you don’t either, Alina.”

_Only he can look in love without ever knowing what love is._ Vasily’s deception was her foolishness and naivety, but even to her eyes, his façade of interest in more than just an alliance was real, startlingly so. Every look, every expression, even the way his head was tilted…to be able to fake something so real and raw…had she not known of his ability to hide himself, she would have fallen for his trickery.

But alas, two can play a game. She needed his trust, and to get it, it was better to pretend that she was bound more than a desire for revenge to his agendas.

“I don’t know…” What would make her blush now? If only she could control how…but it was enough that she knew what love felt like and could mimic it all, even as it hurt more and more when it only reminded her of what foolishness had cost her. “Why?”

Aleksandr did not respond, but she found her hands, in his.

“Do you think I haven’t asked that question?”

“How much free time do you have?”

He shook his head and smiled. “I don’t need to answer it.”

“What matters more now…is that we need Marie on our side.”

Alina had eyed her so-called sister’s room. The curtains were closed, she was likely miserable as ever, and Sergei…she could not imagine how angry Sergei would be, if Marie had not told him, which she presumed was the case as he would’ve dueled Vasily long before Marie started crying endlessly.

_Still calculating, you are._

“She will be one of the greatest assets we have in information.” Alina continued. “What matters most is that she thinks her mother has abandoned her and her sisters too. She will have no one else to stand for her wills but me and you.”

“You could have stopped it from happening.”

“Zoya hardly believes me and her sister is paying for it.” She replied coldly. “I wonder who will have Vasily dead first…but if you want Marie in one piece, pacify Sergei. I suggest you do that first.”

He found it unusual that she her predictions were very much in line with the personalities of the people in question. How was it that in a few months, she was capable of reading past all those facades and false leads? There was nothing in her plan that warranted any concern, and the more he thought of it, the more the plan made sense in all parts of its execution.

Through making Zoya blame herself while she collaborated with Marie, she ensured that no one would interfere in her persuasion. The baroness would have been too busy to check on Marie with Zoya’s emotional needs out in the open, and the isolation would give Marie a lot more time to solidify her dislike of the crown prince. Vasily was never good at winning over people, and Sergei, despite all the words that might’ve been said to him, would not stay still and watch his beloved walk into her supposed grave.

Marie’s impression of abandonment would also alienate herself from the baroness and she would never resort to being another pawn. Nadia would watch all of it go down…and it was a perfect way to ensure that the baroness’ decisions were questioned. Even Zoya would question it and the person who received the most benefit…were them. 

When Marie agreed, the eyes would be on her wedding plans, and not what she did.

Aleksandr merely nodded.

_The runaway train starts now._ As long as she could ensure that Marie complied, which she had plenty of confidence in, Vasily was going to be further from the throne than any other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had fun, more scheming, more plotting...this stuff never gets old. 
> 
> School has started, boring as hell, and I wanna cry when teachers don't...teach. Aren't they supposed to teach?
> 
> Comments welcome! Kudos appreciated! 
> 
> Officially a hermit at school now...last year, a lot of my friends left the school I go to, so I'm a lil lonely. Arghhhhhh
> 
> Vasily isn't dumb, just not as smart as the others lol he's smart enough to do crap but not enough so to defeat some of the most powerful opponents he could potentially ever face. 
> 
> Nikolai tbh is the hardest character to write. I'm not clever or witty enough lol 
> 
> And things are going to go downhill very, very quickly...


	16. Conversations of necessity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy. Sorry for the unexpected hiatus! Had a bit of a block and hectic schedule, more on that at the end...

“I want you to meet someone.” Aleksandr had said.

“And who would that be?” But she had never needed to ask.

Ivan brought out a girl, and Aleksandr simply shook his head.

It was like watching a mirror.

“I see. You brought me a lovely mirror.” She smiled. The girl didn’t.

Alina could guess who had time in such excess to find someone like the person standing before her, and she had to admit he did a good job of it.

Aleksandr motioned for Ivan to lead the girl back out, and as soon as the door closed, Alina laughed.

“We put on a good show, do we?”

“You do.”

_Is that how confessions work?_

“What do you plan on doing with her?”

“Disposing is not an option.”

“Vasily needs to think that you are definitely smitten.”

“I could give her to you,” Aleksandr almost smiled. “It seems that if we play this right, it will be good for the both of us.”

_I didn’t pick wrong this time, it seems._ She could play the part of the jealous lover and demand that he part with the girl. Vasily would not be happy and she relished the face. He wanted a spy on Aleksandr, not Alina, and this time, he would never know who the brain behind his fall truly was.

But it did scare her a little of how quick he had found something to trap both Vasily and Alina. It was always going to limit her…and Vasily. Having a suspicious nature was part of being a bastard and she could understand – just that it wasn’t something she needed right now.

_Leave your suspicions for someone else._

It was a quality that both pleased her and frustrated her.

“Very well. Ruby could use a lot of help these days, it seems.”

“You could use some rest.”

_There are some things I can’t escape, I guess._ Her dark circles were pretty much a part of her, whether from worry, fear, or just pure hatred that kept her eyes open in the night.

_Vanya is not screaming. No one is being executed. You have a warm blanket and a weapon._ The affirmations she repeated over and over seemed to have lost their effect and things that she would have chased into oblivion…were back.

It wasn’t even the breaking of her legs that had hurt the most. It was that she loved him and he only remembered her words to hurt her the most.

Was this why she loved the idea of strength and power so much to fight for the same thing that had killed her in the end?

At least…she knew how to disappear.

“Let me see.” One of his hands had already found its way to the side of Alina’s face and his thumb had rested itself where her dark circles were.

There were a lot of things that she should have blushed at, but never really did. _The non-perks of being thirty something,_ she would have cursed.

How do you bring heat to one’s face?

He likely had not noticed.

“Is it fear that keeps you awake?”

_It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Being ambushed?_ “Maybe.”

Considering how she’d basically risked her life to tell the King that his ministers were guilty of embezzlement, why would it ever frighten her to be ambushed? The King had greater power to end her life right there and then. With an ambush…she at least had the chance to escape, and escape she did.

Was this what bound her inexplicably to Aleksandr? The need for safety? She hadn’t known any fear that manifested itself after her death, but it was not like she could forget pain that would have killed her if not for the poison.

It was not like her to pick the slightly less advantageous option. Nikolai would take longer to earn the trust of, but his true strengths were hidden and had more than once shocked her when he was clearly opposing her side of the battle. And it was easy for him to shake anyone’s faith in their side…unless he was on your side, of course.

Would someone like Aleksandr throw her away if he had the power? She would just hope not, but it was not like Alina knew enough about him either way. To read someone’s face in the moment was easy. To read someone and predict their future actions was a lot harder. A lifetime at court, for the two of them, just meant that reading him was never going to be an easy task.

That was the problem with hiding. It seemed that he had hardly put up a fight when she had found her triumph – or rather Vasily’s – but she wished that he had in order for her to fully gauge what power he had hid.

“Thank you though.” She smiled. “You’ve done me a great favor.”

Even when one wasn’t sure what to do, it was always best to smile and sharpen your knives before someone else pounced while you were empty handed.

~~~

“Marie. Marie, Marie, Marie.”

Zoya didn’t like feeling useless. Or knowing that she was wrong. Alina definitely was deliberate in leading her towards becoming the one at fault this time. _Please please please just respond,_ she begged mentally. Watching Marie shrivel up was not a fun activity by any means, especially when Marie had cursed the entire union.

Marie was her sister, after all. She wasn’t someone that Zoya would dispose of without any second thought – unlike Alina. There was something about watching someone who had grown up in front of you, who had gone through every part of life with enough smiles to be reassuring fall completely to the opposite end of the spectrum that unsettled her beyond any sort of guilt that she might’ve had for being completely and utterly selfish.

Other people? She could easily afford to be merciless. Her sister?

Double standards worked right to Alina’s predictions.

“Is she still upset?” Alina asked.

Zoya glared. “If you have a pair of eyes you’d see.”

“None of my fault or business.”

_She is right though._ Zoya felt tears pricking at her eyes. _Why, why, why? Why can’t I do anything?_

“Help us, please.” Zoya didn’t even know whether it would work to pull her usual expressions, to appear to hold back tears, to plead and pray that Alina would soften.

“I gave you the chance to help her, haven’t I?”

“I’m at fault, I know that.” Now Zoya had felt herself on the verge of crying either way. More realism. More of it. If having it all be real would help her case, she’d do it over and over. “Please.”

“I’ll think about it. And I make no promises.”

“Alina?” Marie piped up. “I don’t want to marry him!” Marie had grabbed onto her kefta and was now rocking back and forth.

In her current state, Alina wasn’t exactly capable of getting rid of her.

_For someone who isn’t eating, she is surprisingly strong_. “What is it that you don’t want? The throne? Vasily?”

“I don’t want to marry anyone else!”

_It seems awfully strange how childish you are. Well, isn’t that how comfort kills your strength? Should I thank my stars for all the pain, then?_

The girl seemed to have gone insane, either way.

“What is it that you want?” Alina didn’t quite understand the reaction. Marie should have been upset, but to the point of snapping? She had predicted some semblance of a storm, but not this.

“Sergei.” Zoya said quietly. “He was even less pleased and pushed her over.”

“I see.”

“Alina, please.” Zoya tugged at her cuffs. “You can have many of the things that I have…but please let Marie live. She won’t live if she keeps on going like this.”

“I will think about it.”

_It’s better than nothing._ Zoya reassured herself.

_But what is it that I will pay?_

“Zoya, can you leave the room for a second?”

_Whatever it takes._ Zoya slipped out, muttering the names of saints. _Sankta Lizabeta, Sankt Illya…help us._

“I will help you under one condition.”

Marie looked up and started another crying fit. “Alina, please, please” she babbled.

“I can’t stop anything from happening, but if you help me, I will free you as soon as possible. You still have half a year before anything formal will happen.”

Marie nodded rapidly, bobbing her head up and down.

“Anything that Vasily does, tell me.” Alina smiled. “Then he’ll be gone for good and you’ll be free soon enough. I promise you, in a year you’ll be walking alongside his casket and in three you’ll be free to marry again.”

Normally, Marie would never have agreed to anything of the sort. Waiting? It wasn’t something that she wanted to do, not with so many pairs of eyes on her.

But what other choice did she have.

“I promise you, yes, I will.”

“Then I think I should have a talk with Sergei about not scaring you, no?”

“Thank you.” Marie’s tears had barely dried when another wave got to her.

“Drink some water. I’ll have Ruby fetch some for you.”

_And now it’s the question of Vasily’s spy._

“Hmmm, you could be my twin.” Once she was back in her room, she had sat herself down and just simply stared at the girl.

This was what great power bought. Someone who didn’t flinch even when she had deliberately added malice to the way she examined her face, features and demeanor. Vasily’s brain was less than functional for that of someone in the royal family, but even then he was still a notch above many others, and in isolated cases, one could be made to believe that he was indeed more than capable.

If she hadn’t been by his side for over a decade, she would have been fooled too. But there was no real way of knowing.

Was it all even real? The pain part, very much so.

“If I compliment you, it would seem a little self-absorbed.” Alina smiled. “What is your name, then?”

“Sofiya.”

“I hope you are wise enough to realize that nothing will ever be easy.”

“I didn’t live life for it to be easy.” She lowered her head. “How is it that we think so alike?”

_Lies or truth?_

Only time would tell.

“You tell me.”

Ruby slipped back in. “Zoya says Sergei is here.”

“Very well.” Alina smiled. “Sofiya, please go and get us tea.”

“I don’t trust her.” Ruby murmured.

“Smart girl.” Alina whispered back. “But I have my reasons. Fast learner, are you?”

_Marie and Sergei, the match of two crazies. What a match._

_So woefully matching._

“Perhaps learn to hide your disappointments, Sergei.”

“I do not care. Who are you to say so?”

“Careful who you are talking to.” Zoya hissed, aiming a heel at Sergei’s calf.

“In a year, Marie will be free. In four, you’ll marry her.” Alina smiled. “I suppose, marrying then isn’t unappealing? Better late than never.”

“You promise that?”

“If you learn to hide, yes. It won’t work unless you can learn to stop putting everything you feel on your face and in your voice.”

Sergei closed his eyes in defeat. “I’ll try.”

“Better.”

“But I wonder how far you would go? Murder? Crime?”

“No.”

“What I will say is that if it goes on for long enough,” Alina lowered her voice, “Vasily will know. He will know, and he will come for you and you will find that you have no ally but whatever dignity you can summon before death to free the people around you. If you do not attack, you will be one of the fallen, Sergei, and I hope you consider that.”

Zoya’s hand trembled. She knew why she felt cold and the reason was the girl who had sat before her, small and plain and clothed in a too-large coat, and yet somehow could command the entire room. _This wasn’t normal. This shouldn’t be normal!_

“Besides, the blood isn’t going to be on either of our hands.” Alina maintained her slightly mocking expression. “But I hope you find revenge satisfying.”

“Thank you?” Sergei wanted to just leave. No matter how arrogant he was capable of being, this was one battle that he didn’t want to be involved in.

A brave warrior knew how to take challenge just as he knew when to back out so to allow him another fight.

“It’s all set then,” Alina stood up. “Why is the tea taking so long?”

_Well…I know that quite well._

Alina knew when exactly tea was not available. If she showed her suspicions, Sofiya might catch on to other things. If she just simply ordered her to something normal, it was just bad luck on Sofiya’s part. Who knew that the tea would take so long, or that there was no one to wash the dirtied pots before tea could be made?

And of all days, the wood would be damp.

_You’ll be busy, Sofiya, for the rest of your time here._

“Good luck to us all.” Alina shrugged. “Just wait.”

_Wait for my successes._

_Vasily, this one is for Vanya._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was almost gonna say “Vasily needs to think that you’re a simp and are SiMpInG” but I realized Alina’s vocab does not consist of words like “simp”. Either way, enjoy, I’m dead, I’m goddamn dead, and I’ve finally got a breathing chance after sorting out 20 thousand items on my to-do list. 
> 
> Sofiya means “wise” by the way hahaha it’s the most common Russian girl’s name, so I figured out it was a sort of an allusion to Aleksandr being common as hell? Dunno, but these people are people and not really anything special, or at least none of them are meant to be 
> 
> From now on, I will try to manage my time better to write more. I love writing but I also have pages and pages of code to deal with, homework, competition practice, rehearsals, classes, writer’s blocks…I’m so sorry XD my life is a little hectic right now but I’m going to try my best to finish this before Jan 2021 since I will be incredibly busy with IB and all. 
> 
> Gonna crash for a nap right now and I will do my business homework...later. My competition practice...later. Sleep first work later.


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